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By  Charles  Egbert  Craddock 


THE  BUSHWACKERS 
$1.25 


THE   WINDFALL 


THE  WINDFALL 


A  Novel 


By  CHARLES   EGBERT   CRADDOCK 

Author  of 

"The    Bushwhackers,"     "The   Prophet    of    the    Great    Smoky 

Mountains,"  "  The  Amulet,"   "A  Spectre  of  Power," 

"  In  the  Stranger-People's  Country,"  etc. 


NEW    YORK 
DUFFIELD   &  COMPANY 

1907 


Copyright,  1907, 
by  duffield  &  company 


Published,  Marxh,  igo? 


THE  WINDFALL 


CHAPTER  I 

DESPITE  his  buoyant  optimism  Hilary 
Lloyd  could  but  quail  as  he  looked  about 
him.  The  vast  uninhabited  heights  of 
the  encompassing  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  green, 
purple  and  bronze,  seeming  to  his  theatrical  sense 
magnificently  posed  against  the  turquoise  back- 
ground of  further  ranges,  glimpsed  through  clifty 
defiles  and  almost  touching  the  differing  translu- 
cent blue  of  the  sapphire  sky;  the  river,  crag- 
bound,  crystal-clear,  with  an  arrowy  swiftness;  the 
forest,  dense  beyond  any  computation,  gigantic  of 
growths,  redundantly  rich  of  foliage,  and  gorgeous 
with  autumnal  tints — all  were  as  revelations  to  his 
half-stunned  mind.  He  had  never  dreamed  of 
the  natural  wealth,  the  splendid  extent,  the  pic- 
turesque values  of  this  region.  His  imagination 
flagged,  failed.  He  was  sensible  of  the  strain 
upon  his  receptivity  to  compass  the  transcendent 
reality.  But  whence,  amidst  these  primeval  splen- 
dours, should  materialise  the  patrons  of  his  little 
street  fair?  Its  flimsy  booths  were  already  rising 
about  the  stony  expanse  of  the  public  square  of  the 
town  of  Colbury,  not,  in  stereotyped  phrase,  like 
magic,  but  with  all  the  laborious  accompaniments 
of  hammers  and  saws,  the  straining  of  muscles  and 

Mi±999 


The  Windfall 

patience,  the  expenditure  of  profanity  and  per- 
spiration, and  the  sound  of  loud,  raucous  voices. 
The  tents  reluctantly  spread  their  mushroom-like 
contour,  now  and  again  suddenly  collapsing  from 
awkward  handling  or  inadequate  aid.  The  man- 
ager looked  at  the  few  humble  toilers  with  a  pre- 
scient pang.  To  be  stranded  here,  on  the  utter- 
most confines  of  civilisation,  seemed  a  disaster 
indeed  of  direful  menace.  He  realised  his  friend's 
impressions  and  could  have  voiced  in  unison  the 
exact  phrase  as  a  heavy  fellow  of  medium  height, 
arrayed  in  a  ready-made  suit  of  a  loud  plaid, 
slouched  up  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and 
chewing  a  straw. 

"  Well,  partner,  weVe  done  it  again !  "  he  said, 
not  without  the  accents  of  reproach. 

Lloyd  obviously  flinched  at  the  tone,  and  his 
face  flushed.  It  was  of  a  singularly  perfect  con- 
tour and  chiselling,  according  to  the  canons  of  art, 
and  in  its  large  nobility  of  expression  it  might  have 
served,  and  possibly  had,  as  a  model  for  an  artist's 
realisation  of  some  high  ideal.  But  there  was  a 
most  mundane  anxiety  in  his  luminous  eyes,  darkly 
blue  and  long-lashed,  and  the  alertness  with  which 
they  eagerly  surveyed  the  meagre  festival  prepara- 
tions gave  an  accent  of  the  ludicrous  to  his  fine 
facial  suggestions.  He  was  like  a  man  playing 
the  role  of  a  prince,  unstaged,  on  the  bare  side- 
walk, and  his  utter  unconsciousness  and  indifference 
to  the  effect  of  his  remarkable  appearance  added  to 
its  impressiveness.     His  hair  was  fine  and  light 

2 


The  Windfall 

brown  in  tint,  and  it  shone  like  silk  as  he  lifted  his 
straw  hat  and  wearily  mopped  his  brow  with  his 
handkerchief.  He  was  young,  twenty-five  per- 
haps, and  very  fair  of  complexion,  and  the  delicate 
texture  of  his  skin  allowed  the  fluctuating  flush  of 
annoyance  visibly  to  come  and  go  in  his  cheek. 
He  was  something  more  than  of  medium  height, 
although  not  notably  tall;  he  was  very  sym- 
metrically put  together,  and,  while  slight  and  ele- 
gant, his  movements  showed  intimations  of  mus- 
cular strength  and  a  swift  deftness  that  implied 
some  special  athletic  training. 

He  presently  gathered  his  faculties  together  and 
with  a  desperate  courage  affected  to  see  naught 
amiss.  "  Why,  we  knew  that  it  was  only  a  coun- 
try town,  Haxon,"  he  remonstrated. 

Haxon  pushed  his  wide-brimmed  imitation 
Panama  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head,  showing  in  full 
relief  his  round  red  face,  beaded  with  perspiration. 
He  lifted  one  plump  hand  with  an  accusatory  ges- 
ture toward  the  infinite  stretch  of  the  lonely  moun- 
tains, and  then  turned  melancholy  eyes  toward 
Lloyd. 

"  Why,"  Lloyd  responded,  "  what  is  the  matter 
with  the  mountains,  Hax?  I  haven't  got  anything 
against  'em." 

Haxon  shook  his  head  dolorously.  "  A  good 
old  country  to  walk  in,"  he  observed,  tragically. 

Lloyd  affected  surprise.  "  Cheese  it!"  he 
cried,  contemptuously.  "  With  a  week  to  show 
— we're  not  stranded  yet !  " 

3 


The  Windfall 

Haxon's  round  head  wagged  to  and  fro  un- 
convinced. "  That  railroad  agent  got  us  good, 
Hil'ry,"  he  opined  didactically.  "  We  have  got 
time  enough  to  show  all  right — but  nothing  to 
show  to." 

In  truth  the  prospect  was  not  alluring  from  a 
utilitarian  point  of  view.  The  little  brick  court- 
house, the  most  considerable  edifice  in  the  town, 
stood  in  a  plot  of  blue  grass,  surrounded  by  a  fence 
of  palings,  and  beyond  the  paved  square  without 
were  enough  small  two-story  shops  to  suggest  the 
intent  of  the  future  when  the  intervals  should  be 
built  in  and  the  quadrangle  complete.  To  the 
west  the  scattered  dwellings  straggled  away  along 
the  hilly  main  street,  with  here  and  there  a  few 
cottages  built  on  intersecting  roadways,  which 
should  hereafter  develop  into  cross-streets.  But 
the  temple  of  justice,  the  stores  and  the  residences 
were  none  of  them  new,  and  barring  a  gleam  of 
fresh  paint  now  and  again  from  some  cottage  out 
on  the  hilly  reaches  of  the  thoroughfare  the  town 
was  much  as  it  had  been  for  years,  and  would  be 
for  years  to  come.  There  was  a  wonderful  lack 
of  foliage.  A  few  ancient  oaks  stood  in  the  court- 
house yard,  and  the  trellises  of  vines  and  low 
boughs  in  gardens  betokened  fruit  culture,  but  along 
the  streets  the  idea  of  improvement  seemed  to 
find  its  earliest  municipal  exposition  in  laying  the 
axe  to  the  root  of  every  forest  tree  that  had  spread 
its  boughs  for  centuries  above  the  lush  spaces  now 
shorn  close  to  give  the  town  room  to  expand.     The 

4 


The  Windfall 

landscape,  steeped  in  splendid  colour,  of  infinite 
vastness,  of  loftiest  heroic  suggestion  and  most 
poetic  appeal,  had  wrought  a  surfeit  of  beauty  in 
the  sordid  little  town,  and  here,  held  in  the  heart 
of  a  most  majestic  expression  of  nature,  there 
was  naught  to  intimate  the  contiguity  of  the 
heights  and  the  forests  save  the  rare  pure  air  and 
the  fragrance  of  the  balsam  fir. 

The  tranquillity  of  the  sunshine,  the  bland, 
suave  atmosphere,  the  benignant  breath  of  woods 
and  waters  seemed  to  impart  their  languorous 
lethargy  to  the  inhabitants  as  well.  There  was 
not  the  frenzied  interest  in  a  new  project  of  what- 
ever sort  that  is  the  concomitant  of  enterprise  in 
a  live  town.  The  merchants,  the  clerks,  the  few 
lawyers,  and  the  officials  of  the  courthouse  noticed 
with  only  an  episodical  attention  the  preparations 
to  get  under  way  the  first  street  fair  which  had  ever 
shown  its  attractions  to  the  denizens  of  Colbury. 

This  attitude  piqued  the  curiosity  of  Lloyd.  It 
nettled  and  unnerved  him.  As  it  fell  under  his 
observation  in  different  ways  it  partook  of  the  na- 
ture of  those  who  manifested  it.  Now  it  inti- 
mated a  sort  of  quizzical  contempt,  for  there  is 
a  class  of  rural  wights,  who  preserve  the  bucolic 
species  still,  always  permeated  with  a  disdain  of 
progress,  and  a  distrust  of  whatever  is  new  to  their 
limited  experience.  Now  it  was  the  outspoken 
prophecy  of  disaster. 

"  Some  fools  may  leave  thar  harvests  ter  waggon 
down  from  the  coves  ter  see  yer  show,"  a  citizen 

5 


The  Windfall 

suggested.  "  But  a  quarter  of  an  eye  will  do  the 
business,  accordin'  ter  my  way  o'  thinkin'.  Ye 
air  goin'  ter  bide  hyar  a  week,  they  tell  me.  Why, 
man,  the  bigges'  circus  I  ever  see  jes'  showed 
fur  one  evenin',  then  tucked  up  its  tent  an' 
marched." 

"Well,  that  ain't  the  style  for  street  fairs," 
Lloyd  explained.  "  This  is  a  different  sort  of 
thing." 

"  It  is, — it  is,  for  sure,  stranger." 

Though  enigmatically  expressed,  the  acquies- 
cence was  distinctly  uncomplimentary,  and  Lloyd 
dropped  the  topic.  He  had  not  come  here  to  ex- 
hibit skill  in  debate,  he  said  to  himself,  but  to 
conduct  a  street  fair.  This,  it  was  evident,  would 
tax  his  powers.  The  manager  was  beginning  to 
realise  that  he  had  been  victimised  in  a  certain 
sort  by  the  wily  representations  of  a  railroad  agent 
and  the  summer  "  cut-rates  "  in  coming  to  this  re- 
mote section.  The  merchants'  evident  lack  of 
expectation  of  reaping  the  golden  reward  of  a 
"  big  crowd  in  town  "  had  a  damping  effect  on  the 
already  drooping  spirits  of  the  showman.  By 
way  of  steadying  his  nerve  Lloyd  sought  reassur- 
ance in  verifying  some  of  the  lures  which  had  led 
him  hither.  In  the  office  of  the  county  court  clerk, 
a  brick-paved,  white-washed  apartment  in  the  court- 
house, he  paid  the  State  and  county  privilege  tax 
on  the  show,  and  after  he  had  taken  out  his  license 
to  exhibit,  he  courteously  presented  the  officials  with 
free  passes  to  all  the  attractions. 

6 


The  Windfall 

"  I  hope  you  will  do  well,"  said  the  clerk  in  a 
tone  of  condolence. 

"  I  hope  so,  indeed,"  returned  Lloyd,  thinking 
of  the  sum  named  in  the  tax-receipt.  "  We  expect 
a  good  crowd.  We  have  been  well  advertised 
throughout  the  country." 

The  clerk  felt  that  he  had  no  call  to  seem 
optimistic  in  other  men's  affairs  to  the  jeopardy  of 
his  own  soul.  He  left  lying  to  more  amiable 
wights,  and  preserved  a  dispiriting  but  veracious 
silence. 

"  The  crops  are  all  laid  by,"  said  a  pleasant- 
spoken  bystander.  "  Some  folks  may  come  down 
out'n  the  coves." 

"  I  hear  there  is  a  mining  camp  some  miles  down 
the  river,"  said  Lloyd  hopefully.  '"  We  lay  con- 
siderable on  that." 

"  Convict  camp,"  said  the  clerk  sepulchrally, 
and  the  amiable  bystander  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Them  fellers  have  season  tickets  whar  they 
be,  stranger,"  he  said.  And  then  he  winked 
hilariously  at  the  clerk,  whose  funereal  aspect 
brightened  dimly  at  the  dreary  jest. 

The  small  boy,  ubiquitous  expression  of  hu- 
manity, was  out  in  force,  and  underfoot  as  usual. 
Every  screw  that  went  into  the  adjustment  of  the 
merry-go-round,  the  wooden  head  of  every  dummy 
horse,  the  great  frame  of  the  Ferris  wheel,  slowly 
rounding  its  circumference  high  into  the  air  above 
the  house  tops  and  showing  the  solemn,  austere, 
purpling  mountain  landscape,  suffused  with  bur- 

7 


The  Windfall 

nished,  golden  light,  grotesquely  framed  by  its 
towering  circle — every  detail  passed  under  the 
personal  supervision  of  the  juvenile  element  of  the 
town,  and  if  the  elders  lacked  interest  it  was  more 
than  atoned  for  by  the  frenzy  of  enthusiasm  which 
possessed  the  juniors.  The  rearing  of  the  tall 
mast,  from  the  summit  of  which  the  noted  "  Cap- 
tain Ollory  of  the  Royal  Navy,"  according  to  the 
florid  announcement  of  the  posters — videlicet 
Haxon,  himself,  and  of  what  royal  navy  remains 
forever  unexplained — was  to  spring  into  the  air  and 
plunge  into  a  reservoir  of  water  below,  marked  the 
accession  of  adult  curiosity.  This  increased  to  open 
comment  when  Haxon  himself  appeared,  cautiously 
superintending  its  solid  adjustment  in  the  ground, 
the  stretching  of  the  guy  wires,  the  placing  in 
position,  at  the  correct  distance,  of  the  great 
trough  of  water  which  was  to  break  the  force 
of  his  leap  from  the  giddy  height  of  the  sum- 
mit. 

The  gratuitous  advice,  freely  proffered,  and  the 
expressions  of  wonderment  on  all  sides  changed  to 
injurious  doubt,  as  the  magnitude  and  risk  of  the 
proposed  feat  percolated  through  the  densities  of 
the  uninformed  rural  mind.  "  Jump  off 'n  that 
thar  pole? — never  in  this  worP  !  "  said  one  of  the 
bystanders.  "  Onpossible !  "  commented  another. 
Others  opined,  "  Takes  more'n  the  Street  Fair  ter 
fool  we-uns." 

"  Time  come,  an'  the  Cap'n  will  be  tooken  with 
the  chicken  pip,  or  the  bilious  colic,  or  some  dis- 

8 


The  Windfall 

abling  complaint  an'  the  defrauded  public  will  be 
jes'  settin'  with  its  finger  in  its  mouth." 

If  Haxon  heard  aught  of  these  disaffected  re- 
marks he  manifested  no  heed.  Silent,  surly,  he 
doggedly  gave  his  whole  attention  to  the  details 
on  which  his  life  depended.  He  was  well  aware 
that  however  sparse  the  attendance  at  the  Street 
Fair,  however  disastrous  the  enterprise  financially, 
the  exhibition  of  his  "  high  dive  "  must  be  given, 
for  it  was  of  necessity  performed  in  the  open  air, 
and  therefore  was  a  free  show  in  the  nature  of  an 
advertisement. 

Lloyd  had  often  heard  the  cynical  remark  that 
the  spectators  of  a  hazardous  acrobatic  feat  crowd 
to  see  the  performer  killed,  not  to  witness  his  tri- 
umph, and  he  was  reminded  of  this  as  he  watched 
the  unsympathetic  citizens  of  the  little  town  and 
heard  their  comments  and  speculations  concerning 
his  partner's  feat,  for  Haxon  was  a  half  owner 
of  the  enterprise.  Lloyd  deprecated  infinitely 
Haxon's  mood  of  surly  disaffection.  He  knew 
that  it  tended  to  impair  the  acrobat's  nerve  and  to 
render  his  terrible  feat  doubly  dangerous.  Haxon, 
of  all  men,  should  cultivate  composure,  a  cheerful 
and  equable  state  of  mind.  Lloyd  was  subtly 
aware  that  his  partner  secretly  upbraided  him  for 
this  unfortunate  move,  the  culminating  disaster  of 
an  unsuccessful  season.  For  the  company  to  go 
to  pieces  at  last  in  the  remote  wildernesses  of  the 
Great  Smoky  Mountains  was  indeed  the  extremest 
spite  of  fate,   and  even  speculation  shrunk  back 

9 


The  Windfall 

appalled  from  the  utter  blank  of  the  possibilities 
beyond.  The  exchequer  was  almost  empty ;  it  was 
"  up  to  them,"  as  they  had  said  dolorously  to  each 
other,  to  make  their  transportation  back  to  New 
York,  and  they  would  have  been  glad  of  this,  even 
with  empty  hands  as  the  guerdon  of  their  summer's 
hard  work.  And  in  fact  this  meant  no  inconsider- 
able sum,  for  in  addition  to  the  concessionaries  who 
sold  and  mended  umbrellas,  parasols  and  fans,  dis- 
mayed inexpressibly  by  their  sudden  projection  into 
this  primitive  community,  the  owners  of  the  candy 
stands  and  peanut  roasters,  the  company  carried 
perforce  a  goodly  number  of  individuals.  While 
there  were  performers  who  did  double  duty  in 
various  wise,  the  "  stunts  "  of  the  specialists  could 
not  be  delegated,  and  this  swelled  the  bulk  of  the 
expense  accounts.  True,  Haxon,  when  his  great 
diurnal  feat  had  been  exploited,  was  wont  to  array 
himself  in  correct  evening  dress  and  perform  with 
great  spirit  on  the  cornet  as  the  noted  soloist, 
Signor  Allegro.  The  "  Flying  Lady,"  when  not 
ethereally  a-wing,  developed  into  a  ticket-seller  of 
no  mean  abilities.  Even  the  noted  juggler  of  the 
company  found  time  to  sing  tenor  in  the  quar- 
tette of  the  "  high-class  concert."  But  for  the  most 
part  the  duties  of  the  others  were  continuous,  and 
they  were  restricted  to  their  several  stations.  Nat- 
urally, the  freaks— a  "Fat  Lady,"  a  "Wild 
Man,"  and  a  "  Living  Skeleton  " — dared  not  court 
gratuitously  the  gaze  of  the  public  who  ought  to 
pay  for  the  privilege  of  a  shock  to  the  nerves,  and 

10 


The  Windfall 

sedulously  secluded  themselves  in  their  tents;  the 
kinetoscope  must  needs  shift  its  scenes  unceasingly, 
and  the  wild  west  play  which  it  exhibited  reached 
a  conclusion  only  to  begin  its  active  agonies  anew; 
the  merry-go-round  and  the  Ferris  Wheel  were 
ready  to  solve  the  problem  of  perpetual  motion, 
and  throughout  all  the  brass  band  brayed,  in  tune 
by  happy  accident,  or,  deliriously  indifferent  to 
the  laws  of  harmony,  vociferously  off  the  key. 
But  for  this  microcosm,  this  bizarre  little  world 
to  revolve  at  all,  must  be  attainable  the  essential 
motive  power,  the  admittance  fee  in  goodly 
quantity. 

The  prospect  here  had  seemed  so  promising,  so 
reasonable.  The  company  had  struggled  against 
the  unvarying  luck  of  superior  counter-attractions 
wherever  they  had  gone;  to  give  their  show  in  a 
locality  unused  to  all  diversion,  with  not  a  rival 
in  prospect  nor  even  in  reminiscence,  was  a  lure  not 
to  be  disregarded.  The  lack  of  an  audience  in 
so  sparsely  settled  a  community  did  not  readily 
occur  to  them;  a  town,  even  a  little  town,  implies 
normally  a  tributary  region  of  suburbs  and  farms. 
The  vast  uninhabited  mountain  wildernesses  faced 
them  like  the  land  of  doom. 

Lloyd  had  had  no  Scriptural  tuition  that  could 
remind  him  of  the  Scapegoat  of  the  Hebraic  ritual, 
loaded  with  the  sins  and  the  curses  of  the  people 
and  driven  into  the  desert  to  lose  itself  in  those 
aridities  and  die;  but  could  the  creature  have  pos- 
sessed any  sense  of  its  doom  and  its  direful  burden, 

ii 


The  Windfall 

Lloyd  might  have  realised  its  sentiments,  as  he 
gazed  appalled  upon  the  infinite  stretching  of  those 
austere  and  lofty  mountains,  which  even  in  the  days 
of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  the  country  were 
called  "  The  Endless."  It  was  not  his  fault,  he 
said  bitterly  to  himself,  his  eyes  hot  as  he  gazed. 
The  subject  had  been  fully  discussed,  and  all  had 
agreed  on  the  experiment.  Haxon,  though  a  part 
owner  of  the  precarious  and  ephemeral  property, 
had  not  made  a  protest — nay,  he  had  been  an 
earnest  advocate  of  "  fresh  fields  and  pastures 
new."  Now  Lloyd  abruptly  reminded  him  of  this, 
as  with  a  sudden  lurch  and  an  exclamation  of  im- 
patience Haxon  snatched  the  hammer  of  a  work- 
man and  with  two  or  three  well-directed  blows 
drove  home  the  steel  spike  that  held  down  one  of 
the  guy  wires.  He  looked  up,  still  in  his  bent 
posture,  from  under  his  frowning  dark  eyebrows; 
his  round,  florid  face,  that  was  wont  to  be  so  jovial, 
was  all  lowering  and  sullen.  His  small  dark  eyes 
flashed  with  antagonism  and  vexation.  "  Who's 
savin'  as  I  didn't  agree — eh?  Well,"  as  Lloyd 
made  an  intimation  of  negation,  "  what's  gnawin' 
on  ye,  then?  " 

This  was  evidently  no  time  nor  mood  for  the 
discussion  of  the  matter,  and  indeed  discussion  was 
futile,  a  mere  waste  of  words.  The  die  was  cast. 
The  Street  Fair  had  met  its  fate.  If  the  company 
had  been  wrecked  on  a  desert  island  its  case  could 
not  be  more  desperate. 

Lloyd  turned  away,  looking  dully  about  him. 
12 


The  Windfall 

There  was  scant  supervision  now  necessary — the 
old  routine,  practised  week  after  week  since  the 
early  spring,  had  grown  so  familiar  to  the  work- 
men that  the  most  ingenious  blunderer  could  hardly 
find  a  pretext  for  his  activities,  and  little  by  little 
Lloyd's  meditative  steps  took  him  slowly  along  the 
smooth  red  clay  road  till  presently  he  found  him- 
self on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  nearing  the 
river.  He  shook  his  head  gloomily  when  he  stood 
on  the  high  rocks  of  the  bank  and  gazing  down 
perceived  the  course  that  the  road  followed 
through  a  clifty  defile  to  reach  the  verge  and  the 
ford — there  was  not  even  a  bridge  in  this  be- 
nighted spot,  and  yet  this  was  a  county  town! 
The  water  was  swift,  evidently  deep — he  marked 
the  distance  down  the  stream  where  the  road  once 
more  resumed  its  course  on  the  opposite  bank.  It 
obviously  took  a  devious  route  along  the  bed  of 
the  river,  picked  its  steps  so  to  speak;  there  must 
be  deep  holes,  quicksands,  pitfalls  on  either  side 
of  the  comparatively  safe  footing  of  the  ford,  he 
reflected.  Suddenly  he  noticed  the  footbridge; 
this  followed  a  direct  line  across  the  torrent — a 
trifling,  primitive  structure,  consisting  of  a  couple 
of  logs  with  a  shaking  hand-rail,  and  with  the  deep, 
turbulent  swift  flow  of  a  rocky  mountain  stream 
beneath.  Once  more  he  dolorously  shook  his 
head.  Hither  must  come  the  patrons  of  the  Street 
Fair,  even  now  spreading  its  attractions  on  the 
public  square  to  welcome  them — not  yet  a  canvas- 
covered  wagon  in  sight,  no  horseman,  no   foot- 

13 


The  Windfall 

passenger  to  tempt  the  instabilities  of  the  little 
bridge. 

He  laid  his  hand  on  the  rail  and  as  he  crossed 
felt  the  elastic  structure  sway  beneath  every  step, 
while  the  waters  swirled  far  below.  But  as  he 
reached  the  opposite  bank  and  paused  for  a  mo- 
ment his  anxieties  were  calmed  in  spite  of  himself 
by  the  sweet  peace  of  the  dark,  cool  solitude;  he 
listened  to  the  ripples  eddying  about  the  jagged 
base  of  the  crags — a  sound  distinct  from  the  swift 
rush  of  the  tumultuous  currents.  It  had  a  second- 
ary tone,  seeming  keyed  higher,  a  clear  metallic 
tintinnabulation  like  elfin  minstrelsy,  barely  heard, 
yet  not  discriminated  by  the  senses.  And  oh,  the 
sylvan  balm  of  the  air! — it  touched  so  caressingly 
the  forlorn  wight's  cheek,  his  hair  as  he  took  off 
his  hat,  his  hot,  tired  eyes,  that  he  had  half  a  mind 
to  fall  a-sobbing  on  the  vague  breast  of  this  insen- 
sate sympathy.  He  was  comforted  in  some  sort. 
His  lungs,  filled  and  weighted  with  the  soot  and 
smoke  and  dust  of  a  dozen  sordid  towns,  expanded, 
drinking  in  with  deep  draughts  this  fragrant  elixir 
that  was  but  the  diffusive  air.  He  looked  up  into 
the  dark  green  boughs  of  the  giant  oaks  and 
beeches,  and  down  again  into  depths  as  green, 
where  the  crystal-clear  water  reflected  the  verdure, 
leaf  by  leaf  and  branch  by  branch — only  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  stream  a  brilliant  section  of 
vividly  blue  sky  was  duplicated,  flaring  out  with  a 
flake  of  cloud  dazzlingly  white. 

So  revivifying  were  these  influences  that  he  had 
14 


The  Windfall 

a  mind  for  solitude  for  the  nonce.  A  long  quiet 
walk  he  thought  would  restore  his  composure  and 
steady  his  nerves.  He  would  compass  thus  a  sur- 
cease of  the  anxiety  that  harassed  him,  and  by 
inaction  recruit  his  energies  better  to  cope  with 
his  problems.  He  had  a  deft,  steady,  sure  step 
as  he  took  his  way  along  the  country  road,  cover- 
ing the  ground  with  surprising  rapidity,  for  he  was 
a  strong,  athletic  pedestrian;  not  that  he  had  ever 
walked  either  as  a  pastime  or  a  profession,  but  he 
had  done  various  acrobatic  "  turns  "  in  his  time, 
and  his  muscles  had  served  him  well.  Now  and 
again  as  he  went  he  lifted  his  head  and  looked  off 
through  gaps  in  the  foliage  at  the  encompassing 
mountains,  critically  surveying  them,  it  might 
seem,  his  head  discriminatingly  askew,  his  bright 
eyes  narrowing,  and  it  was  characteristic  of  his  ex- 
perience and  his  limitations  that  he  appraised  the 
value  of  the  landscape,  not  as  scenery  nor  geo- 
graphically, nor  agriculturally,  nor  botanically,  but 
simply  as  it  struck  the  eye  for  stage-settings.  Oc- 
casionally as  the  road  swerved  he  caught  a  new 
aspect,  and  turned  himself  to  face  the  prospect, 
holding  up  both  arms  to  cut  off  irrelevant  details, 
and  bound  the  picture  to  the  limits  of  the  most 
effective. 

"  Gee, — what  a  flat!  "  he  said  once,  and  some- 
times he  waved  his  hands  in  the  air,  detaching  bits 
here  and  there  of  cliff,  or  cataract,  or  bosky  dells 
which  he  considered  appropriate  for  "  wings  "  or 
"  flies." ..  These  erratic  attitudinisings  might  have 

*5I 


The  Windfall 

suggested  a  doubt  of  his  sanity  had  there  been  aught 
to  observe  him  as  he  climbed  with  wondrous  ac- 
tivity the  steep  ascent  of  a  mountain  road,  hardly 
more  indeed  than  a  bridle  path,  now  about  seven 
miles  from  Colbury.  He  saw  no  living  object, 
save  once,  high,  high  in  the  air  above  the  ranges,  a 
majestically  circling  bird,  whose  strength  and  grace 
he  paused  to  admire,  unaware  that  it  was  the  dis- 
tance which  so  commended  the  foul  mountain  vul- 
ture; and  once,  when  the  laurel  pressed  close  into 
the  road  and  he  heard  a  step  within  the  dense 
covert;  the  next  instant  a  deer  bounded  out  into 
the  path,  caught  sight  of  him,  fixed  his  brilliant 
eyes  upon  him,  and  stood  petrified  with  terror  for 
an  inappreciable  second,  holding  one  forefoot  up- 
lifted. Then  stamping  with  all  four  feet  together 
and  poising  his  antlered  head  backward  in  a  splen- 
did pose  the  buck  sprang  down  the  declivity,  and 
with  an  incredible  lightness  and  swiftness  disap- 
peared in  the  densities  of  the  deep  woods. 

The  showman  stood  in  stunned  amaze.  He  had 
before  seen  deer — in  a  disemboweled  state  and 
dead  as  Ariovistus,  hanging  at  the  door  of  a  cer- 
tain restaurant  of  Gotham  that  thus  advertised  its 
venison,  and  in  the  close  confines  of  the  zoological 
display  in  city  parks,  but  in  its  natural  state,  in  its 
native  woods  it  was  another  creature.  He  had  no 
dream  that  a  deer  was  like  this. 

"  Gee,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I'm  paralysed  if  he  ain't 
the  whole  show !  " 

He  could  have  cried  out  with  delight  when  sud- 
16 


The  Windfall 

denly  the  river  sought  anew  his  companionship. 
Down  deep  in  a  ravine  now  it  flowed,  for  he  had 
been  steadily  climbing,  although  the  zigzags  of 
the  mountain  road  had  minimised  the  slant  of  the 
ascent.  How  darkly  cool  in  its  abysmal  cliff- 
bound  channel  it  looked,  how  melodiously  chant- 
ing it  was  as  it  went.  He  wondered  if  he  were 
to  cross  it  again — not  at  this  height,  he  hoped. 
But  as  he  progressed  ever  higher  and  higher  the 
stream  seemed  to  sink,  ever  deeper  and  deeper, 
and  presently  the  woods  intervened  to  screen  it 
from  sight,  and  soon  its  voice  grew  faint  as  it  wan- 
dered away  till  he  could  barely  hear  it,  still  sing- 
ing, singing  as  it  went,  and  then  he  was  not  sure 
if  the  sound  wTere  of  murmurous  waters  or  the 
sibilance  of  the  wind. 

For  the  wind  was  rising,  and  all  the  leaves  were 
astir.  A  thousand  voices  seemed  suddenly  to  in- 
vade the  stillness.  He  wondered  to  hear  a  mock- 
ing-bird break  out  in  jubilantly  brilliant  melody — 
he  had  thought  the  species  silent  at  this  time  of  the 
year;  he  was  acquainted  with  them  as  they  flour- 
ished in  cages  in  barber  shops.  The  trees  of  the 
dense  woods  were  as  if  endowed  with  language, 
for  he  discriminated  the  difference  in  the  rustling 
of  the  varieties  of  foliage  as  he  passed — a  keen 
sense  he  had.  A  tree  toad  was  shrilling  hard  by 
for  rain.  He  could  not  see  the  creature;  he  had 
no  idea  to  what  the  voice  belonged,  so  limited 
was  his  woodland  experience.  He  only  noted 
the  clamorous  appeal.     He  was  beginning  to  be 

17 


The  Windfall 

tired.  He  wondered  how  far  he  had  come  at 
this  brisk  pace.  Suddenly  he  fixed  the  terminus 
of  his  jaunt.  The  road  forked  at  a  little  dis- 
tance in  advance,  and  he  determined  that  he  would 
not  trust  himself  to  unknown  divergences  of  the 
main  thoroughfare.  He  slackened  his  gait  as  he 
approached  the  parting  of  the  ways.  On  one  side 
the  woods  grew  sparse,  showing  a  deep  declivity, 
a  section  of  valley  far,  far  below,  and  beyond  a 
panorama  of  mountain  ranges  that  took  his  breath 
away,  one  above  another,  one  beyond  another,  tier 
after  tier  to  the  limits  of  vision.  Infinity,  that  the 
mind  cannot  grasp,  was  here  expressed  to  the  eye. 
The  amethystine  tints  imparted  by  the  western 
light  were  upon  them,  and  he  knew,  therefore, 
that  they  lay  to  the  east,  but  despite  the  smile  of 
the  parting  sun  a  great  mass  of  darkly  purple  clouds 
lowered  above  them,  raising  a  fictitious  horizon 
line  almost  to  the  zenith.  The  wind  was  a-surge 
in  these  clouds  and  they  visibly  careened,  and  col- 
lapsed, and  filled  out  anew  as  if  they  were  sails 
spread  to  the  fury  of  a  gale,  but  no  token  of  mo- 
tion was  in  the  densely  wooded  mountains  beneath 
them,  and  only  a  gentle  breeze  ruffled  the  tree  tops 
of  the  valleys,  a  silver  wake  following  its  invisible 
passage.  On  the  other  side  of  the  road  he  noted 
how  the  timber  had  been  cut  away;  a  cornfield  was 
yellowing  in  the  sun,  and  at  the  summit  of  the 
slant  he  perceived,  lazily  adrift  in  the  air,  a  whorl 
of  smoke  that  issued  from  the  crooked  and  dilapi- 
dated stick-and-clay  chimney  of  a  little  log-cabin, 

18 


The  Windfall 

almost  invisible,  embowered  amongst  the  boughs 
of  an  ample  orchard  of  thrifty  apple  trees.  Nearer 
at  hand  these  gave  way  to  peach  trees  planted  in 
regular  avenues  and  great  numbers.  In  the  dearth 
of  manufacturing  energies  in  the  region  and  evi- 
dences of  any  agricultural  industry,  except  of  the 
simplest  limits,  he  was  surprised  by  these  sugges- 
tions of  enterprise  and  labour.  The  grassy  glades 
between  the  rows  of  peach  trees  were  alluring  to 
the  eye ;  some  cereal  had  been  sown  and  harvested, 
and  in  the  aisles  a  lush  growth  of  crab-grass  had 
sprung  up,  new  and  thick  and  green  as  moss.  The 
peaches  had  all  been  gathered,  but  the  graceful 
lanceolate  leaves  were  still  dense  upon  the  boughs, 
and  the  somnolent  afternoon  sunshine  here  and 
there  flickered  through,  and  lay  in  long,  burnished 
golden  shafts  adown  the  green  glooms. 

And  suddenly  he  was  conscious  of  motion  in  their 
midst.  He  could  not  be  sure  how  he  had  failed 
to  see  the  figure  earlier — or,  indeed,  had  it  just 
come  within  his  range  of  vision.  A  girl  was  stand- 
ing half  in  the  golden  glow,  and  half  in  the  em- 
erald gloom  of  the  shadow,  gazing  up  wistfully 
at  a  bough  gently  swaying  just  beyond  her 
reach.  As  the  breeze  tossed  it,  he  saw  the  prize 
that  lured  her — a  great  Indian  peach,  the  last  of 
the  season,  with  all  the  sweetness  of  the  summer 
suns,  with  all  the  freshness  of  the  summer  rains 
stored  within  the  luscious  darkly-red  globe.  She 
raised  her  hand,  and  made  a  sudden  leap  toward 
it  with  the  lightness,  the  grace,  the  agile  strength 

19 


The  Windfall 

of  a  deer.  The  wind  brushed  the  bough  beyond 
her  reach,  and  once  more  she  bounded  toward  it 
elastically. 

The  indescribable  grace  of  her  attitudes  ap- 
pealed to  the  man  whose  education,  and  interest, 
and  business  in  life  were  pose.  Nothing  more 
ethereally  dainty  was  ever  exploited  before  the 
footlights.  He  caught  his  breath,  as,  realising  that 
she  had  not  perceived  him  standing  in  the  road,  he 
gave  himself  up  to  staring  at  her,  with  a  vague 
sense  of  a  discovery  growing  upon  him.  Her  dress, 
rustic  though  it  was,  impressed  him  as  crudely 
picturesque.  It  was  of  the  coarsest  yellow  calico, 
and  she  held  up  the  skirt  in  front  full  of  clusters 
of  purple  grapes,  so  overladen  that  the  rich  bunches 
and  tendrils  of  vine  trailed  down  upon  her  petti- 
coat thus  revealed,  which  was  of  a  dark  red  cotton. 
A  short  petticoat  it  was,  and  showed  her  feet  and 
ankles;  her  chaussure  was  of  the  flimsiest, — a  pair 
of  old  rubber  sandals,  that,  laced  with  thongs 
across  her  red  hose,  with  only  a  utilitarian  intent 
of  retaining  them  in  place,  had  contrived  to  achieve 
a  classic  effect;  these  members  were  so  active, 
so  swift  and  certain,  so  deftly  used,  so  elastic 
of  muscle  as  she  skipped  and  leaped,  that  the 
idea  of  the  boards  was  suggested  anew — no  pre- 
miere danseuse  that  he  had  ever  seen  could  do 
a  "  turn  "  more  daintily.  She  had  all  the  sportive 
innocence  of  a  fawn. 

A  certain  difficulty  encumbered  her.  She  carried 
on  her  head  a  basket  or  a  piggin,  hardly  visible 

20 


The  Windfall 

so  filled  it  was  with  grapes,  the  tendrils  and  clus- 
ters falling  partly  outside  till  they  touched  her 
thick  auburn  hair,  coiled  in  a  great  curling  mass 
at  the  back  of  her  head.  She  now  steadied  this 
pail  with  one  upheld  hand,  the  arm  bare  to  the 
elbow,  and  again  she  caught  at  the  peach,  her  fair 
up-turned  face  smiling,  her  brown  eyes  alight  with 
fun  and  yet  all  a-gloat,  her  full  red  lips  parted 
over  her  perfect  teeth,  and  as  she  danced  she  sang, 
or  rather  panted  out,  a  stanza  of  a  song  that 
seemed  inapposite  save  for  the  first  line,  which, 
perhaps,  suggested  it  to  her  mind: 

"  Oh,  shell  I  git  my  heart's  desire, 
Kind  shepherd,  tell  me  true, 
That  I  may  quit  before  I  tire, 
My  Kate  has  many  come  to  sue.'* 
"  Once   you    fail — 'tis    talking, 
Twice  you   fail — 'tis  mockingk 
Thrice  you  fail — 'tis  shocking, 
But  a  fool  will  ever  play  with  fire." 

Her  voice  was  crudely  loud,  but  so  clear.  Every 
tone  was  so  justly  true.  The  enunciation  was 
faulty  beyond  any  power  of  description,  and  at 
first  it  made  him  wince,  albeit  his  own  capacities 
for  declamation  were  of  no  high  order.  Then  her 
singing  struck  him  as  characteristic — good  of  its 
kind,  but  of  a  kind  never  classified.  He  had  an 
instinct  for  novelty.  The  second  time  she  sang 
the  stanza,  giving  herself  up  with  a  sort  of  joyous 
abandon  to  the  dance,  for  now  she  seemed  hardly 
to  hope  to  reach  the  peach,  he  was  entranced  with 
the  picture  she  presented,  the  exquisite  grace  of 
her    attitudes,    the    incomparable    lightness    and 

21 


The  Windfall 

strength  of  her  dancing,  her  beautiful,  symmetrical 
form,  and  the  strong  sweet  melody  of  her  voice 
as  it  floated  out  so  richly.  He  noted  the  con- 
trast of  her  slender  waist  and  limbs  with  the  full 
throat — revealed  by  the  bodice  of  the  orange- 
tinted  calico,  the  edges  of  which  were  turned  in  at 
the  top  for  added  coolness — the  deep  chest.  With 
the  vocal  endowments  the  build  assured  the  singer. 

His  interest  was  as  impersonal  as  if  she  were 
indeed  a  feature  of  some  Thespian  exhibition. 
He  had  not  thought  how  the  scene  must  end — 
that  if  he  moved  she  must  descry  him  standing 
so  near  at  hand  in  the  road.  And  in  fact  he  did 
not  move — he  was  still  motionless,  spellbound, 
when  a  wider  circuit  of  the  tree  brought  him  sud- 
denly within  her  range  of  vision.  She  paused  so 
abruptly  as  to  jeopardise  the  equilibrium  of  the 
pail  on  her  head  and  she  lifted  her  hand  to  steady 
its  profuse  wealth  of  grape  clusters,  and  thus  she 
stood  at  gaze,  her  lips  parted,  her  eyes  dilated 
with  astonishment. 

He  divined  her  sentiments  at  the  moment  of 
discovery,  but  he  could  not  understand  the  facial 
expression  that  ensued.  Her  eyes  narrowed  with 
an  inimical  suggestion,  watchful,  expectant.  Her 
red  lips  closed  firmly.  He  had  not  before  noticed 
how  strong  of  contour  was  her  chin,  intimating 
resolution.  He  lifted  his  hat  courteously,  and 
waited  for  her  to  speak.  She  remained  silent, 
and  there  was  a  moment  of  vacuum. 

Then  a  sudden  sound  smote  the  stillness.     A 

22 


The  Windfall 

tremendous  peal  of  thunder  came  from  the  mass 
of  darkly  purple  clouds  suspended  above  the 
mountains  across  the  valley.  As  he  instinctively 
turned  his  head,  they  were  rent  by  a  swift  zigzag 
gleam  of  a  sinister  whiteness,  and  again  the 
thunder  pealed.  The  turmoils  that  had  earlier 
convulsed  the  clouds  had  now  taken  definite  direc- 
tion. The  wind  was  driving  them  hitherward 
across  the  valley,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  heard  the  raindrops  pattering  down  upon  tree 
tops  two  thousand  feet  below  him,  while  he  stood 
high  in  the  sunshine.  One  of  the  sudden  mountain 
storms  impended.  In  another  moment,  as  he  per- 
ceived, the  torrents  would  be  loosed  upon  them. 
He  was  arrayed  to  simulate  prosperity;  "  out-at- 
elbows,"  even  in  a  showman,  is  a  confession  of 
disaster.  Had  business  been  good  he  would  have 
gone  far  less  smart.  He  had  a  prudential  con- 
sideration of  shelter. 

uGee!  There  comes  a  corker!  "  he  exclaimed. 
11  Could  I  go  to  the  house,  lydy?  " 

He  realised  the  incongruity  of  the  address  with 
this  untutored  peasant,  but  a  sense  of  policy  blended 
with  his  extravagant  courtesy  in  its  application. 
The  "  lady  "  gazed  at  him  with  that  countenance 
of  severe  monition  which  he  hardly  understood. 

"  I  was  thinkin'  ez  ye  mought  ez  well,"  she 
replied.  Her  answer  was  not  so  ungracious  as 
irrelevant.  He  was  a  man  of  keen  intuitions,  and 
he  was  realising  that  their  thoughts  did  not  meet. 
She  spoke  of  somewhat  else  than  the  storm.     He 

23 


The  Windfall 

was  not  a  well-bred  man  in  any  sense.  The  im- 
personations of  the  stage  comprised  his  tuition  of 
conduct  and  courtesy,  but  he  had  the  veneer  which 
even  the  observation  of  the  customs  of  gentility 
afford,  the  manners  of  the  street,  the  trains,  the 
theatre,  and,  as  she  threw  down  the  bars  of  the 
fence  and  came  into  the  road,  he  lifted  his  hat 
again,  and  prepared  to  walk  by  her  side,  and  pro- 
posed to  carry  her  pail.  She  said  nothing.  She 
only  gave  him  a  wide,  uncomprehending  stare,  then 
fell  into  the  road  several  paces  behind  him.  For 
his  life  he  could  not  avoid  turning,  and  slacken- 
ing his  gait,  that  she  might  come  up  alongside. 

"  Keep  right  ahead,"  she  said  severely,  and  thus 
admonished  he  took  up  his  line  of  march  for  the 
cabin  on  the  hill. 

She  herded  him  along  as  a  canine  guardian  of 
a  flock  might  regulate  the  progress  of  a  stray  sheep. 
Once  he  again  stepped  instinctively  to  one  side  of 
the  path  in  the  expectation  that  she  would  join 
him,  but  she  instantly  crossed  to  the  same  side, 
and  kept  the  distance  the  same  between  them,  some 
two  paces,  even  when  the  drops  began  to  fall,  and 
he  quickened  his  gait  to  a  speedy  run.  Only  a 
short  interval  elapsed  before  they  were  at  the  bars 
of  the  pasture  fence,  which  were  already  on  the 
ground,  and  traversing  the  absolutely  bare  and 
hard-trodden  dooryard  to  a  log  cabin  of  a  most 
uninviting  aspect. 

He  had  scant  opportunity  to  mark  its  details 
till  he  was  on  the  rickety  little  porch  where,  look- 

24 


The  Windfall 

ing  over  his  shoulder,  he  had  a  cursory  glimpse  of 
its  stereotyped  features — strange  enough  to  him; 
the  wood-pile,  situated  on  a  sea  of  chips;  the  bee- 
gums,  ranged  along  the  fence;  the  grindstone;  the 
ash-hopper;  the  rooting  pigs  in  a  corner;  the 
cow,  standing  in  a  shed  at  one  side  waiting  to  be 
milked;  a  good  strong  waggon  also  under  that 
shelter;  a  bevy  of  poultry,  big  and  little,  pecking 
about  the  door;  a  dozen  curs  of  low  degree  noisily 
yelping  around  him,  with  so  spurious  an  affecta- 
tion of  fierceness  that  it  could  not  impose  even 
on  a  stranger's  fears;  and  a  big  bulldog,  of  a  most 
ferocious  silence,  slowly  dragging  a  block  and 
chain  from  under  the  house.  Infinitely  incon- 
gruous the  whole  seemed  with  the  imperial,  august 
aspect  of  the  purple,  storm-dominated  mountains 
beyond  and  the  smiling  serenity  of  the  far  sunlit 
valleys,  their  variant  tones  of  green  enriched  by 
the  burnished  golden  afternoon  glamours,  and 
by  the  silver  glintings  of  the  river  coursing  through 
the  coves  in  the  distance.  The  next  moment  the 
clouds  fell  like  a  curtain  before  them  all.  The 
thunder  pealed;  the  torrents  descended;  the  door- 
yard  was  a  network  of  puddles,  and  the  clamor- 
ous beat  of  the  rain  on  the  roof  made  the  room 
into  which  he  was  ushered  resound  like  a  drum. 


25 


CHAPTER  II 

HILARY  LLOYD  had  never  seen  aught 
like  this  apartment.  The  beams  of  the 
low,  unplastered  ceiling,  brown  with 
smoke  and  age,  were  hung  with  strings  of  red 
peppers  and  bunches  of  herbs;  the  two  beds,  high 
and  plump,  were  covered  with  gay  patchwork 
quilts  of  marvellous  design;  the  vast  fireplace — 
he  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes  when  he  marked 
the  clay-and-stick  materials  of  its  construction — 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  built  by  some  big  bird; 
the  quaint  pots,  and  ovens,  and  skillets,  and  trivets 
ranged  in  one  corner  he  appraised  as  cooking  uten- 
sils, but  their  like  he  had  never  before  beheld;  for 
a  moment  he  did  not  recognise  the  use  of  a  queer 
box-like  cradle,  which  a  faded  young  woman,  with 
a  snuff  brush  in  her  mouth,  was  rocking  with  one 
foot,  delegated  to  maternal  duty,  while  she  sat 
staring  with  lack-lustre  eyes  at  the  advent  of  the 
stranger  with  the  daughter  of  the  house. 

"Hi!"  he  exclaimed  delightedly.  "Hello, 
Baby!  "  He  did  not  wait  to  make  sure  of  his 
welcome  or  for  any  formalities  of  introduction. 
He  pounced  down  on  the  cradle,  yanked  out  the 
infant  from  the  coverlets,  tossed  it  up  to  the  ceil- 
ing, and  then  set  it  on  the  tall  mantelpiece,  hold- 

26 


The  Windfall 

ing  it  there  with  both  hands  to  take  a  good  look 
at  it,  while  the  members  of  the  family  stood  around 
in  wonder.  Whether  the  child  fancied  that  it  had 
already  met  the  showman  and  mistook  his  identity, 
whether  this  boisterous  method  of  address  ac- 
corded with  its  undeveloped  sense  of  manners, 
whether  the  nap  to  which  it  had  been  consigned 
were  compulsory  and  it  rejoiced  in  its  release,  it 
responded  genially  to  the  demonstration  in  the 
spirit  in  which  this  was  tendered.  It  was  an  attrac- 
tive object  as  it  sat  on  the  high  mantelpiece  and 
flopped  its  very  fat  legs  to  and  fro,  frankly  ex- 
hibited by  its  short  pink  calico  skirt,  and  laughed 
widely  with  two  pearly  white  teeth  all  agleam  in 
a  very  red  mouth.  It  had  red  hair,  curling  in 
very  seductive  ringlets  about  a  fair  brow,  and  its 
big  blue  eyes  were  as  merry  as  a  clown's.  At 
every  jocose  movement  of  Lloyd's  thumbs  on  its 
fat  stomach,  tickling  it  surreptitiously  as  he  held 
the  child  on  its  perch,  it  burst  into  repeated  peals 
of  infantile  laughter,  and  no  one  cared  how  hard 
the  rain  came  down,  or  listened  to  the  thunder 
roll. 

"  By  George,  you're  a  peach!  you're  a  daisy!  " 
cried  Lloyd  hilariously. 

"  Be  you  uns  a  family  man,  stranger?  "  a  high 
vibratory  voice  queried,  and  Lloyd  glancing  down 
beheld  at  one  side  of  the  fire  an  ancient  wrinkled 
face,  surrounded  by  the  crinkled  ruffle  of  a  great 
white  cap,  a  venous  hand,  holding  a  pipe  of  strong 
tobacco  at  arm's  length,   and  a  thin  bent  figure 

27 


The  Windfall 

attired  in  a  blue  and  white  checked  homespun 
gown,  with  a  little  red  plaid  shoulder  shawl. 

"  Good-evenin',  madam, "  he  said,  snatching  off 
his  hat — one  hand  could  hold  the  baby.  "  Fam- 
ily man? — nope!"  he  replied  emphatically,  and  he 
shook  his  head  sagely.  "  The  kind  of  biz  I'm  in 
don't  give  a  feller  much  chance  at  the  domestic 
altar — winter  and  summer,  night  and  day,  on 
the  go.  As  to  the  lydies — they  ain't  disposed  to 
marry  a  man  on  the  road." 

He  could  not  understand  the  appalled  pallor 
that  settled  on  her  pinched  high-featured  face. 

"  Why  n't  ye  git  a  better  bizness?  "  she  asked, 
with  the  plangent  cadence  of  reproach. 

He  stared,  again  confronted  with  that  sense  of 
being  at  once  uncomprehending  and  uncompre- 
hended.  "  Do  I  speak  the  English  langwitch,  or 
not?  "  he  said  petulantly  in  his  inner  consciousness. 
For  the  situation  fostered  doubts. 

The  stress  of  the  obvious  misunderstanding 
placed  a  period  to  the  carousal  with  the  baby,  and 
he  handed  the  infant  back  to  its  mother  as  he  took 
a  tendered  chair.  The  child  had  no  mind  to  re- 
linquish the  gay  company  it  had  encountered,  and 
clung  to  the  showman,  working  both  bare  feet 
in  the  direction  of  its  lackadaisical  mother,  with 
a  very  distinct  intention  of  making  her  keep  her 
distance,  if  kicks  might  suffice.  Its  strength  did 
not  match  its  resolution,  however,  and  it  was 
shortly  consigned  to  its  cradle,  where  it  crawled 
up  out  of  its  coverings,  whenever  it  was  laid  on 

28 


The  Windfall 

its  back,  yelling  vociferously  and  continuously, 
save  when  it  paused  once  or  twice  to  break  into  a 
laugh  as  Lloyd  leaned  over  the  back  of  his  chair 
to  snap  his  fingers  at  it. 

"  You  have  got  a  dandy  place  up  here,"  he  said 
by  way  of  making  his  stay  agreeable.  "  Fine 
orchard.  Must  have  oodles  of  apples  and 
peaches." 

Again  that  doubt  of  the  "  English  langwitch  " 
assailed  him.  Surely  he  had  said  naught  affright- 
ing, but  there  was  a  look  like  terror  in  the  old 
woman's  eyes. 

"  Some  o'  the  trees  ain't  good  bearers,"  said 
the  girl,  speaking  for  the  first  time  since  their  en- 
trance. She  had  bestowed  elsewhere  her  burden  of 
grapes,  and  she  was  standing  now  on  the  broad 
hearthstone  divested  of  those  picturesque  acces- 
sories to  her  costume.  Lloyd  was  conscious  of  a 
curiosity  concerning  her  beauty,  thus  devoid  of 
embellishment,  but  as  he  turned  to  critically  scan 
her  appearance  his  attention  was  struck  by  a  pecu- 
liarity that  diverted  his  survey.  She  had  just  been 
out  in  the  rain — yet  how  they  had  both  run  to 
reach  the  shelter  before  the  bursting  of  the  storm! 
She  was  evidently  wet  to  the  skin,  and  as  she  stood 
on  the  hot  flagstones  the  water  ran  off  her  hair, 
her  hands,  her  skirts  in  rills,  and  the  heat  of  the 
fire  sent  the  steam  ascending  from  every  drenched 
fold  of  her  garments.  Her  errand  had  obviously 
been  a  matter  of  some  importance  toward  which 
she  had  had  little  inclination,  for  she  did  not  relish 

29 


The  Windfall 

her  dripping  condition,  as  was  manifested  in  the 
fact  that  she  was  immediately  taking  down  a  fresh 
gown  from  where  it  had  hung  on  a  nail  on  the 
back  of  a  door,  and  rummaging  in  a  chest  for 
other  dry  gear.  She  did  not  leave  the  room,  how- 
ever, till  a  heavy  step  smote  the  puncheons  of  the 
porch,  when  she  gathered  up  the  fresh  garments 
and  climbing  a  ladder-like  stairway  to  a  room 
in  the  roof,  disappeared  in  the  attic. 

She  had  gone  to  summon  the  master  of  the 
house  on  his  account,  Lloyd  realised  at  length,  and 
with  a  sentiment  of  expectant  anxiety  he  turned 
toward  the  newcomer,  although  for  his  life  he 
could  not  understand  what  should  require  the  girl 
to  face  a  tempest  like  this  to  bring  the  owner  to 
reckon  with  a  chance  wayfarer,  seeking  shelter 
from  a  storm.  The  owner,  nay,  two,  five,  a  half 
dozen  stalwart  men,  heavily  built,  tall,  bearded,  clad 
in  brown  jeans,  trooped  in,  their  united  tramp  shak- 
ing the  puncheons  of  the  floor  like  the  march  of  a 
detachment  of  infantry.  They,  too,  dripped  with 
the  rain,  but  with  more  unconcern  than  the  girl  had 
manifested,  for  they  ensconced  themselves  in  chairs, 
two  or  three  joining  the  group  around  the  hearth- 
stone, where  winter  and  summer  the  mountaineer's 
fire  is  always  aglow,  its  intensity  governed  by  the 
temperature;  the  others  leaned  back  against  the 
wall,  their  splint-bottomed  chairs  tilted  on  the  hind 
legs,  all  solemnly  silent,  all  monotonously  chewing 
their  quids  of  tobacco,  all  stolidly  eyeing  the 
guest. 

JO 


The  Windfall 

Only  the  eldest  seemed  to  anticipate  conversa- 
tion. Not  that  he  spoke  himself,  but  he  fixed  his 
eyes  so  interrogatively,  so  coercively  on  Lloyd's 
face  that  the  expression  betokened  a  hundred  eager 
questions.  An  account  of  himself  was  evidently 
in  order — but  why?  Lloyd  glanced  out  of  the 
open  door  at  the  glittering,  steely,  serried  ranks  of 
the  rainfall,  thinking  that  as  soon  as  they  had 
marched  past  and  down  the  valley  he  too  would 
speedily  evacuate  the  premises  and  see  his  queer 
entertainers  never  again — unless  indeed  they  were 
minded  to  patronise  the  attractions  of  the  great 
Lloyd  &  Haxon  Street  Fair  now  ready  to  exhibit 
in  Colbury.  The  association  of  ideas  allayed  a 
sudden  rush  of  anger  which  was  rising  in  his 
consciousness,  responsive  to  the  uncertainty  of  his 
position,  the  peculiarity  of  their  manner,  the  im- 
possibility to  compass  an  accord  of  comprehension 
in  these  simplicities  of  circumstance.  It  was 
stemmed  in  an  instant  by  the  instinct  of  the  show- 
man. Since  he  was  expected  by  his  uncouth  host 
to  inaugurate  the  conversation  he  would  in  the 
interest  of  the  show  waive  ceremony  and  essay 
whatever  topic  came  first  to  his  tongue. 

"  Sudden  storm,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  was  out 
there  admiring  your  fine  orchards  and  it  overtook 
me." 

The  host's  jaw  dropped.  It  was  odd  that  his 
face  could  be  so  expressive,  masked  as  it  was  by 
a  bushy  growth  of  red  beard,  evidently  once  of 
fiery  tint,  but  now  so  veined  with  grey  that  the 

31 


The  Windfall 

effect  was  quenched  to  a  degree.  Perhaps  because 
all  its  indicia  were  of  the  conventional  type  their 
significance  was  easily  discerned.  His  mouth, 
cavernous  amidst  the  beard,  stood  open  in  readily 
interpreted  dismay.  His  small  brown  eyes  hung 
with  a  persistent  appeal  on  the  eyes  of  the  stranger. 
His  head  bent  forward  stiffly,  with  an  intent,  ex- 
pectant waiting.     He  uttered  not  a  syllable. 

"Great  Scott!  They  all  look  as  if  they  had 
seen  a  ghost !  "  thought  the  amazed  Lloyd. 

The  next  moment  he  felt  a  sudden  touch  on  his 
knee,  and  turning  sharply  in  his  chair,  perceived 
the  old  woman's  tremulous  claw  bespeaking  atten- 
tion as  she  leaned  forward  toward  him  from  her 
chimney  corner.  Her  cap  frills  quivered  in  her 
agitation;  her  face  was  deathly  pale.  "  Stranger," 
she  said  solemnly,  "  we  make  vinegar,  an'  sell  it 
— an'  not  a  thing  else.  Vinegar — vinegar — sell  it 
to  the  stores  in  town." 

Lloyd  stared.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  in  a  night- 
mare. Yet  he  could  recall  no  nightmare  that  had 
ever  exerted  so  great  a  strain  on  his  mental 
endowments. 

"Vinegar?"  he  said  with  a  forced  laugh. 
"  Well,  I  don't  take  much  stock  in  vinegar.  I 
ain't  one  of  the  sour  kind.  Vinegar  ain't  good  to 
drink.  I  couldn't  pledge  your  health  in  that,  lydy. 
With  all  of  them  fine  fruits  I  should  think  you 
might  make  something  better  than  vinegar." 

The  host  spoke  up  acridly. 

"  Mam,"  he  addressed  the  old  dame,  "  you  jes' 

3* 


The  Windfall 

hesh  up."  His  voice  was  husky,  as  if  he  spoke 
with  an  effort — hasty,  as  if  he  scarcely  knew  what 
to  say. 

Lloyd  turned  upon  him  with  a  sudden  flare  of 
anger.  "  I  don't  want  to  call  a  man  a  cad  in  his 
own  house,"  he  flamed.  "  But  the  lydy  will  talk 
as  she  pleases  while  I'm  aboard.  I'd  oodles  rather 
talk  to  her  than  to  you,  sir." 

The  old  woman  had  evidently  lost  her  poise — 
she  cast  an  amazed,  affrighted  glance  upon  her  son. 
Then  she  clumsily  sought  to  repair  the  damage 
that  she  fancied  she  had  done.  "  Dried  apples, 
stranger,  an'  dried  peaches.  We  uns  cut  an'  sell 
'em  ter  the  store — in  town.  Dried  apples  an' 
peach-leather." 

"  Very  praiseworthy.  But  dried  apples  ain't 
the  best  thing  that  can  come  out  of  an  orchard," 
Lloyd  began,  but  the  host  cut  him  short. 

"  Mam,"  said  the  great,  bearded  giant,  antici- 
pating her  reply — his  face  a  very  mask  of  terror 
— "  ef  you  uns  don't  hesh  up " 

"What  will  you  do,  eh?  Nothing  while  I'm 
here,"  Lloyd  blustered.  "  Why,  man,  you're  a 
monstrosity.  I've  a  mind  to  take  you  off  with 
me!  "  There  was  a  sudden  stir  behind  Lloyd;  he 
had  a  vague  perception  that  the  five  other  men 
were  afoot  with  some  intent,  which  he  did  not 
know,  and  for  which  he  did  not  care.  "  I'll  put 
you  on  exhibition  in  my  show  as  the  '  wild  man 
of  Persimmon  Cove.'  You  ain't  any  more  civil- 
ised than  my  big  boa  constrictor.     You  ought  to 

33 


The  Windfall 

draw  a  crowd  all  by  your  lonesome.  What  sort 
of  behaviour  is  this  for  a  son?  " 

"  Oh,"  squealed  the  old  woman  savagely,  "  he 
is  the  best  son  that  ever  stepped — an'  I'll  mark 
the  face  o'  the  man  who  says  the  contrairy !  "  She 
held  up  her  talons  tremulously.  "  The  best  son 
that  ever  stepped." 

"  Mam,"  quavered  the  mountaineer,  in  despair, 
"  you  uns  will  ruin  me  bodaciously.  Jes'  hesh  yer 
mouth  an'  hold  yer  tongue,  ef  so  be  ye  know  how." 

Lloyd,  still  seated,  looked  up  wonderingly  at  the 
group,  now  all  afoot  and  gathered  about  him. 
He  noted  that  the  two  younger  men  presently 
placed  themselves  by  the  door,  as  if  he  might  make 
a  break  for  liberty.  He  was  aware,  too,  for  the 
first  time  of  the  number  of  weapons  on  the  walls. 
The  rifle  on  deer  antlers  above  the  mantelpiece 
had  caught  his  attention  when  he  first  entered,  but 
now  he  took  heed  of  others  here  and  there  sus- 
tained in  place  by  pegs  driven  between  the  logs. 
This  was  not  remarkable,  perhaps,  since  there  were 
several  men  in  the  family,  but  he  was  not  used 
to  seeing  a  living  room  unite  its  functions  with 
that  of  an  armoury.  He  could  understand  naught 
of  the  strange  episode,  and  it  had  elements  and 
suggestions  infinitely  distasteful  to  his  predilec- 
tions. "  All  I  have  got  to  say  then  is  that  bad  is 
the  best — if  that  is  the  best  son,"  Lloyd  persisted. 
11  He  has  got  no  more  feeling  than  the  big  snake 
in  my  show." 

The  word,  mentioned  for  the  second  time,  made 

34 


The  Windfall 

a  definite  impression.  There  was  a  sudden  abso- 
lute pause  within.  The  wind  outside  rose  and  fell 
in  sonorous  gusts  above  the  vast  valley.  The 
iterative  beat  of  the  rain  on  the  roof  was  differen- 
tiated, in  the  myriad  tentative  touches  of  the  drops, 
from  the  swirling  splash  of  its  aggregations  from 
the  eaves.  The  log  on  the  andirons,  long 
a-smoulder,  broke  in  twain  with  a  dull  crash,  its 
two  ends  falling  apart  on  the  piles  of  ashes  in 
either  corner,  and  sending  up  a  shower  of  sparks 
and  a  cloud  of  pungent  smoke.  Even  the  padded 
footfalls  of  one  of  the  dogs  were  discriminated  in 
the  silence  as  he  trotted  across  the  floor  and  stood 
at  the  door,  gazing  out  at  the  rain  for  a  moment, 
then  with  a  blended  yawn  and  whine  stretched 
himself  to  unprecedented  proportions  and  once 
more  came  back  to  lie  on  the  warm  hearth,  where 
the  group  still  stood  motionless,  towering  expect- 
antly over  the  visitor  as  Lloyd  sat  in  his  chair  and 
stared  blankly  at  them  all. 

UA  show,  stranger?"  the  husky  voice  of  the 
master  of  the  house  ventured  dubiously.  "  Be 
you  uns  got  a  show?  " 

"  I  have  that,"  Lloyd  declared  promptly,  "  and 
don't  you  forget  it.  The  Lloyd  &  Haxon  Com- 
pany. Greatest  show  on  earth!  Unrivalled  at- 
tractions !  Flying  Lydy,  Fat  Lydy,  Isaac,  the 
snake-eater — eats  'em  alive, — Captain  Ollory,  of 
the  Royal  Navy,  greatest  high  dive  artist  in  the 
world — daily  exhibition  free, — finest  Ferris  Wheel 
ever    seen,  Merry-go-round  with  both  saddles  and 

3$ 


The  Windfall 

chariots — great  musical  attractions — quartet  of 
high-class  singers,  and  daily  recitals  by  Signor 
Allegro  on  the  cornet — brass  band  concert  before 
each  performance — pyrotechnic  exhibition  at  night, 
free  .  .  ."  he  reeled  off  this  farrago  with  the 
utmost  respect  and  seriousness  while  his  host  stared 
in  astonishment. 

"  Stop — stop "  cried  the  showman  sud- 
denly. "  I  have  got  some  pictorial  paper  here  and 
other  literachure  of  the  company."  He  drew  from 
his  breast  pockets  some  compactly  folded  posters 
which  when  opened  out  proved  to  be  highly  tinted 
illustrations  of  these  unrivalled  attractions.  He 
sprang  nimbly  out  of  his  chair  and  began  good- 
naturedly  to  spread  them  out  on  the  floor  of  the 
cabin  at  the  feet  of  the  old  "  lydy "  who  had 
threatened  him  with  a  passage  at  arms.  The 
others  stood  around  dumbly,  doubtfully  staring  at 
the  red  and  yellow  daubs;  even  the  dogs  joined  the 
circle,  vaguely  wagging  their  tails  and  now  and 
then  gazing  up  hopefully  into  their  masters'  faces, 
as  if  to  demand  when  something  in  the  nature  of 
a  banquet  would  ensue  on  so  much  show  of  interest. 
One  of  them,  a  pointer,  suddenly  impatient,  walked 
across  the  paper,  leaving  on  it  the  imprint  of  his 
toes  damp  from  a  recent  excursion  into  the  puddles 
of  the  porch.  Lloyd  caught  him  by  the  nose  and 
lifted  him  off  with  one  hand.  "  What  d'ye  mean 
by  spoiling  the  portrait  of  the  fat  lydy,"  he  said, 
and  dropping  on  one  knee  he  rectified  the  damage 
with  his  handkerchief. 

36 


The  Windfall 

"Where? — where,  stranger?"  demanded  the 
old  woman  in  a  twitter  of  the  keenest  curiosity. 
"  Waal,  sir!"  eyeing  the  picture,  "she  is  boda- 
ciously  broad.  Air  that  thar  a  speakin'  likeness, 
sir?" 

"  Honest,  she  is  fat,"  said  Lloyd.  "  She  has 
to  ride  in  a  cart  by  her  lone.  But  she  is  a 
very  nice  lydy — high-toned.  I  feel  sorry  for 
her." 

"Why?  "  asked  the  girl,  unexpectedly. 

Lloyd  glanced  up  doubtfully  at  her  from  his 
lowly  posture,  then  slowly  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  turning  his  head  thoughtfully 
to  one  side,  as  if  to  scrutinise  his  impressions,  "  I 
always  was  sorry  for  freaks.  They  are  always  in 
demand,  and  they  generally  earn  a  handsome  sal- 
ary, but  money  ain't  everything — money  can't 
make  people  happy." 

He  stopped  short,  reflecting  that  a  compara- 
tively small  amount  would  add  very  materially  to 
his  prospect  of  felicity. 

Once  more  he  had  a  shuddering  sense  of  a 
venerable  claw  laid  on  his  arm.  The  old  woman 
was  at  his  side.  "  Stranger,"  she  said  mysteri- 
ously, "  ef  anybody  in  town  axes  you  ef  we  uns 
make  money  up  hyar  on  the  mounting  you  kin  jes' 
sw'ar  ez  ye  knows  'tain't  true.  We  uns  ain't  got 
nuthin'  ter  make  money  with." 

Lloyd  gazed  in  amazement  at  her — then 
around  at  the  humble  place  with  every  evidence 
of  poverty,  and  to  his  mind,  discomfort.     But  he 

37 


The  Windfall 

Could  not  with  civility  acquiesce  in  her  statement 
and  he  hesitated. 

"  Mam,"  her  son  plained,  "  ye  air  wuss  than 
pore,  ye  air  plumb  deranged.  This  hyar  man  air 
a  showman." 

"  And  I  want  you,  sir,  for  a  freak!  "  Lloyd  de- 
clared rudely.  "  Allow  me,  lydy,  to  present  you 
with  some  free  tickets  for  the  show,  for  yourself 
and  these  other  two  lydies.  These  will  be  good 
for  any  day  and  the  whole  biz,  if  you  can  come 
down  to  Colbury  one  day  this  week."  He  was 
shuffling  the  little  blue  and  red  cards  in  his  hands, 
his  instinct  being  to  include  the  entire  family,  but 
a  recollection  of  the  acrid  remonstrances  of  "  Cap- 
tain Ollory  of  the  Royal  Navy  "  on  the  occasion 
of  similar  generosities,  stayed  his  hand. 

"  Naw,  sir,  naw  sir!  nare  one,"  the  head  of  the 
family  had  found  his  ordinary  sonorous  voice. 
"  We  may  be  pore,  ez  Mam  says,  but  we  pay  ez 
we  go.  We  kin  tote  our  end  of  the  log.  We'll 
attend  the  show — but  we  ain't  wantin'  nobody  ter 
gin  us  a  treat." 

"  Shadrach, — Shadrach,"  quavered  out  the  old 
woman  in  a  twitter  of  anxiety,  "  whut  ye  talkin' 
'bout.  Ye  know  ye  ain't  got  no  money — an'  you 
ain't  got  no  way — no  way — ter  git  no  money." 

"  Hesh  that  up,  Mam,"  the  son  admonished 
her,  "  else  you'll  go  J^^stracted,  and  eend  yer  days 
with  a  gag  in  yer  mouth  an'  tied  ter  the  bedpost." 

"  Cheese  it,  I  tell  you !  "  Lloyd  confronted  him 
angrily.     "  You  will  stow  your  tongue  while  I'm 

38 


The  Windfall 

here  or  I'll  give  you  what  for.  I'd  floor  you 
anyhow  for  a  nickel,  but  you  are  too  old  for  me  to 
touch." 

"  S'pose  you  uns  try  me!  "  one  of  the  young 
mountaineers  beside  the  door  stepped  forth. 

He  was  like  unto  the  sons  of  Anak,  gigantic  of 
build,  every  movement  informed  with  elasticity  and 
vigour,  and  the  others  broke  into  a  great  guffaw, 
so  slight  by  contrast,  so  girlishly  dapper  did  Lloyd 
appear,  with  so  rose  pink  a  flush  in  his  cheek  as  he 
stood  on  the  hearth.  But  his  eyes  flashed  at  the 
challenge,  and  as  the  muscular  young  mountaineer 
approached,  carefully  eyeing  him,  he  threw  off  his 
coat  and  "  bunched  his  fives  "  without  a  moment's 
hesitation. 

The  rural  giant's  lunge  was  something  fright- 
ful in  its  weighty  impetuosity.  The  stranger  side- 
stepped with  lightning-like  swiftness;  his  arm 
flew  out  in  a  sudden  counter-stroke  that  landed 
with  an  impact  like  the  click  of  a  solid  shot;  the 
little  cabin  shook  on  its  foundations  and  rang  with 
a  clatter  that  discounted  the  tumults  of  the  storm 
as  the  young  mountaineer  "  went  to  grass  "  with  a 
precipitancy  that  left  hardly  an  available  muscle 
in  his  whole  big  body. 

There  were  some  capacities  for  the  enjoyment 
of  sport  and  a  sense  of  fair  play  in  the  applause  of 
the  others,  for  Tom  Pinnott  showed  that  he  was 
not  seriously  hurt  by  ruefully  gathering  himself 
together  and  sitting  where  he  had  fallen  on  the 
floor,  sheepishly  laughing  and  rubbing  his  shoulder. 

39 


The  Windfall 

"  How  on  yearth,  stranger,"  demanded  old 
Shadrach  Pinnott,  who  seemed  to  bear  no  grudge 
for  the  several  smart  admonitions  as  to  his  filial 
conduct  which  the  young  showman  had  adminis- 
tered, "  How  on  yearth  did  ye  ever  contrive  ter 
throw  Tawm." 

"  Oh,  I  have  had  experience  in  the  ring,"  said 
Lloyd,  pulling  on  his  coat.  "  I  trained  with  a 
good  prospect  for  the  light-weight  championship, 
but  I  gave  it  up.  I  don't  like  to  fight.  I  have 
got  the  sand  all  right,  but  I  have  got  to  get  my 
mad  up  to  fight  with  any  spirit.  Now,  what  I  like 
in  a  public  performance  is  to  show  some  kind  of 
merit,  you  know,  of  fine  flavour.  I  mean  some- 
thing pleasing — that  don't  hurt  nobody,  nor  leave 
nobody  in  the  lurch,  nor  make  much  of  one  man 
to  destroy  another's  prospects.  Competitions 
ain't  my  lay  at  all.  Now,  if  I  could  choose  I'd 
like  to  exhibit  a  song  and  dance  such  as  this  lydy 
here  was  enjoying  in  the  orchard.  That  would  hit 
the  taste  of  the  public,  too — to  a  charm — to  a 
charm." 

He  wagged  his  head  with  the  emphasis  of  con- 
viction. An  exquisite  bit  of  rusticity,  he  felt  it 
to  be,  as  refined,  as  delicate,  as  free  from  the  rough 
edges  of  common  country  life,  idealised  because 
of  the  girl's  grace  and  beauty,  yet  as  genuinely 
bucolic  as  a  pastoral  poem  or  painting.  He  had 
begun  to  ply  her  with  insistence.  If  the  "  lydies  " 
would  come  down  he  would  arrange  so  that  it 
shouldn't  cost  them  a  cent.     By  fair  rights  she 

40 


The  Windfall 

ought  to  be  paid  for  dancing  and  singing,  and  as  she 
cried  out  in  amazed  ridicule  of  the  idea  he  assured 
her  that  in  the  outside  world  this  happened  every 
day.  Ladies  received  money,  legal  tender,  actual 
currency,  for  nothing  but  singing  and  dancing. 
"  And  few  of  them  can  do  a  turn  like  you,"  he 
declared.  But  because  of  his  partner — and  he 
paused  to  disclose  to  them  in  a  voice  of  mystery 
the  exceedingly  pertinent  fact  that  Captain  Ollory 
of  the  Royal  Navy,  whose  real  name  was  Haxon, 
was  a  partner  in  the  enterprise,  and  without  his 
consent  he  dared  not  offer  her  money  till  she  had 
been  tried  and  the  public  captured. 

"  Do  you  think  you  would  be  scared? "  he 
asked,  ready  to  reassure  the  delicate  feminine 
sensibility. 

"  Skeered  o'  whut?"  she  demanded  wonder- 
ingly. 

If  she  could  not  instinctively  prefigure  shrink- 
ing from  the  crowds,  from  the  strange  situation, 
he  determined  that  he  would  not  suggest  the  poign- 
ant anguish  of  stage  fright,  and  the  thought  oc- 
curred to  him  for  the  first  time  that  this  was  a 
product  of  civilisation,  the  evil  of  self-conscious- 
ness, the  prescience  of  carping  criticism  or  ridicule. 
He  made  haste  to  say  that  the  tent  of  Isaac,  the 
snake-tamer,  where  he  was  wont  to  "  eat  'em 
alive  "  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  Square  from  the 
tent  wherein  she  would  sing  and  dance.  True,  the 
"  Wild  Man  "  was  a  close  neighbour,  but  since  she 
was  to  be  in  effect  for  a  time  a  member  of  the  com- 

4i 


The  Windfall 

pany  he  would  disclose  in  confidence  the  circum- 
stance that  Wick-Zoo,  the  Wild  Man,  was  getting 
to  be  quite  civilised,  in  fact — in  fact — he  burst  out 
laughing, — Wick-Zoo  was  a  pretty  good  fellow. 
She  need  have  no  fear  of  Wick-Zoo,  the  Wild 
Man. 

Then  he  piped  up  with  a  very  pretty  tenor  and 
sang  the  air  which  he  had  caught  from  hearing  it 
in  the  orchard,  and  gave  her  some  points  as  to  the 
management  of  her  voice  to  make  more  of  it  for 
the  public  behoof. 

And  while  the  old  grandmother  listened  sharp- 
eyed  and  spellbound,  the  girl,  proving  docile  and 
tractable,  sought  to  apply  his  admonitions  and 
criticism,  and  now  and  again  his  dulcet  tenor  tones 
rang  out  to  illustrate  some  axiom.  The  group  of 
mountain  men  lingered  for  a  time,  but  presently 
drifted  out  to  the  rain-drenched  porch,  where  drops 
still  trickled  from  the  eaves.  The  storm  was 
over;  as  they  gazed  out  down  the  valley  they  saw 
that  it  had  become  all  of  a  luminous  emerald  green 
with  vast  clouds  of  pearl  white  vapours  shimmer- 
ing and  glistening  as  the  sun  smote  upon  them, 
floating  between  the  purple  mountains  near  at 
hand  and  half  veiling  the  distant  azure  ranges. 
A  sudden  rainbow  sprung  into  the  light,  spanning 
the  abysses  from  Chilhowee  to  the  Great  Smoky 
heights,  and  further  down  the  valley,  like  a  faint 
reflection  of  its  glories,  a  duplicate  arch  was  set  in 
the  mists  beyond.  With  stolid  unperceptive  eyes 
they  mechanically  dwelt  upon  the  scene — it  was 

42 


The  Windfall 

to  them  but  the  ordinary  aspect  of  life.  They 
appreciated  naught  of  its  splendours,  its  vastness, 
its  pictorial  values,  its  uplifting  subtlety  of  sug- 
gestion. It  meant  to  them  that  the  rain  was  over 
and  that  sunset  would  soon  emblazon  the  west. 
Cows  were  to  be  milked,  the  stock  to  be  fed,  the 
wood  to  be  cut,  and  perhaps  other  duties  pressed 
upon  their  recollection,  for  Tom  presently  said  in 
a  low  voice  to  his  father,  "  Granny  mighty  nigh 
let  the  cat  out'n  the  bag." 

Shadrach  Pinnott  warily  nodded  his  head  in 
assent. 

Another  of  his  sons  spoke  up  after  cautiously 
listening  to  be  sure  that  the  newcomer  could  hear 
naught  but  his  own  carolling,  "  '  My  Kate  has 
many  come  to  sue !  '  " 

"  Ef  he  hed  been  what  Clotildy  took  him  fur 
the  whole  secret  would  hev  been  out  fur  true." 

The  bare  suggestion  that  this  danger  might  have 
so  nearly  menaced  them  put  the  whole  group  out 
of  countenance. 

"  Ye  'low  ez  ye  be  sure,  dad,  ez  he  air  nuthin' 
but  a  showman  like  he  say?  "  asked  Daniel,  the 
eldest  of  Shadrach's  sons,  a  slow,  sedate-looking 
man  of  thirty  years.  "  Ye  'low  he  didn't  sense 
nuthin'  o'  the  facts  from  them  words  that  Granny 
let  fall?" 

Shadrach  Pinnott's  shock  head  bent  in  his  deep 
cogitation.  "  He  hed  the  papers  an'  the  tickets  of 
a  showman,"  he  argued.  "  An'  thar  hev  been 
word  of  a  Street  Fair  comin',  down  in  Colb'ry." 

43 


The  Windfall 

"  An'  he  hev  got  the  muscle  an'  the  showin'  of 
a  reg'lar  prize-fighter,"  said  Tom,  the  athlete, 
bethinking  himself  to  rub  his  shoulder. 

"An'  lis'n,"  said  the  crafty  old  moonshiner; 
"  he  sings  like  a  plumb  mocking-bird.  In  my 
opinion  the  whole  Revenue  Department  ain't  ekal 
ter  sech  quirin'  ez  that." 

And  once  more  the  dulcet  plaint  "  My  Kate 
has  many  come  to  sue,"  challenged  the  echoes. 


44 


CHAPTER  III 

FOR  a  long  time  after  Lloyd  had  quitted  the 
place  Clotilda  Pinnott  stood  on  the  porch 
and  listened  to  his  retreating  footsteps. 
An  impressive  silence  had  succeeded  the  turmoils 
of  the  storm.  No  more  the  echo  repeated  the 
sonorous  proclamation  of  the  imperious  thunder. 
One  could  hardly  realise  how  the  trumpeting  wind 
had  blared  through  those  narrow,  deep,  mute  val- 
leys with  their  yet  more  secluded,  cup-like  coves. 
The  glancing  lyrical  notes  of  the  rain,  falling  on 
the  ear  like  myriads  of  uncomprehended  words 
keyed  to  harmony  in  rhythmic  measure,  had  left 
but  now  and  again  the  patter  of  glittering  silver 
drops  from  the  low-hanging  boughs  of  some  mois- 
ture-weighted tree.  In  this  quiescence  of  nature 
she  could  mark  his  progress,  as  silent,  too,  she 
leaned  against  the  post  of  the  rickety  porch,  her 
fresh  gown  of  faint  blue  cotton  still  distinct  in  the 
fading  light,  so  clarified  was  the  air,  so  pervasive 
the  reflection  of  the  great  expanse  of  the  deeply 
yellow  western  sky,  glowing  like  burnished  copper 
above  the  dusky  purple  mountains  that  deployed 
against  the  horizon  line,  high  above  the  emerald 
valleys  below.  Now  she  heard  the  impact  of  his 
foot  on  stone,  and  again  it  was  the  shifting  of  sand 

45 


The  Windfall 

and  gravel  dislodged  by  his  step  that  told  her  he 
had  turned  the  curve  of  the  road;  now  she  knew 
he  was  almost  immediately  in  a  line  with  the  house, 
but  nearly  a  thousand  feet  below  on  the  mountain 
side.  She  was  apprised  when  he  passed  the  chalyb- 
eate spring,  not  indeed  by  the  sound  of  his  tread, 
for  the  distance  here  was  too  great;  some  vague 
reverberations  began  to  issue  from  the  gigantic 
gneiss  cliff  hard  by  that  rose  austere,  grey,  col- 
umnar, nearly  one  thousand  feet  sheer,  standing 
out  in  half  relief  from  the  main  mountain  mass 
like  a  flying  buttress  of  some  buried  castle  in  the 
mythical  days  of  the  giants.  Its  niched  and 
creviced  summit  was  on  a  level  with  the  cabin 
perched  so  high  on  the  mountain  side,  and  now 
and  then  a  broken  vibration  betokened  the  sound 
of  a  step  below;  then  came  the  echo  of  a  voice 
faintly  singing  the  orchard  song.  Then  silence — 
a  long  lapse  of  time — and  still  silence. 
"  He's  gone,"  she  said.  "  He's  gone !  " 
She  sighed  with  a  vague  languor,  an  unappre- 
ciated pain,  and  shifted  her  posture.  The  tension 
of  her  vigilance  was  relaxed.  She  stretched  up 
both  her  arms  against  the  post  and  dully  yawned. 
Then  she  looked  out  at  the  scene  with  the  effect  of 
observing  it  for  the  first  time.  For  a  long  inter- 
val she  gazed  at  the  burnished  translucent  yellow 
glow  of  the  west  that  despite  its  brilliance  seemed 
to  diffuse  no  light  upon  the  world  below.  Shadows 
were  mustering;  the  valley  beneath  could  hardly  be 
discerned  now,  but  for  the  rising  of  the  mists. 

46 


The  Windfall 

Their  white  glimmer  among  the  darker  tree  tops 
prolonged  the  visibility  of  the  forests.  Only  the 
horizon  line,  sharply  drawn  against  the  saffron 
glamours  of  the  heavens,  preserved  the  contour  of 
the  mountains,  otherwise  lost  in  the  dull  purplish 
dusk. 

No  longer  silence  reigned.  First  she  heard  the 
tremulous  trilling  of  a  tree-toad;  a  pause  ensued  in 
the  moist  vacuity  of  the  atmosphere,  and  then  came 
a  raucous  tentative  note  of  a  frog,  and  presently 
there  sounded  a  dozen  like  voices,  and  now  the 
air  rocked  to  and  fro  with  the  strophe  and  anti- 
strophe  of  the  batrachian  tribe,  all  a-croak  by  the 
water  courses,  and  the  continuous  shrilling  of  the 
cicada.  All  were  loud  in  the  calm  twilight,  so  loud 
that  an  appreciated  sense  of  silence  seemed  attend- 
ant on  the  evening  star,  pellucid,  white,  quivering 
in  the  yellow  glow  of  the  west,  and  the  slow  drop- 
ping of  the  crescent  moon  adown  and  adown  the 
sky. 

Clotilda  appeared  as  if  she  were  going  to  meet 
it,  as  she  suddenly  stepped  into  the  bridle  path  and 
began  to  take  her  way  up  the  steep  ascent  of  the 
mountain.  A  pine  tree  showed  high  against  the 
heavens,  and  as  she  looked  the  moon  seemed  for 
a  time  as  if  entangled  amidst  its  fibrous  boughs. 
Then,  as  the  direction  of  the  path  veered,  the  mystic 
cresset  once  more  swung  against  the  rich  daffodil 
sky,  with  opaline  glimmers  trailing  after  on  all  the 
sea  of  mist  which  now  submerged  valley  and  forest, 
still  vibrant  with  the  voices  of  the  night;  the  mist 

47 


The  Windfall 

rose  above  the  precipices  to  the  left  and  tossed  its 
waves,  spectre-like,  detached,  flickering  amongst 
the  dense  jungle  of  the  laurel  growths  through 
which  the  path  had  begun  to  stray.  Its  trend 
grew  difficult  to  discern;  now  it  was  obliterated, 
then  it  reappeared,  and  again  was  altogether  and 
finally  lost  to  view.  A  darksome,  dubious  way  to 
be  sure,  and  lonelier  than  aught  might  express. 
Even  Clotilda  lingered,  reluctant,  perhaps,  turn- 
ing her  white  face  toward  the  moon,  its  glamour 
full  upon  her  pensive  pallor.  The  darkness  an- 
nulled all  else  save  only  this  elfin  face  among  the 
glossy  leaves  gazing  on  the  magic  bow  of  pearl 
and  loath  to  quit  the  light.  Suddenly  she  was 
gone. 

The  rhododendron  jungle  closed  about  her.  If 
there  were  ever  a  path  in  its  densities  only  memory 
might  discern  it,  so  thick  and  interlacing  were 
the  evergreen  branches.  Down  and  down  she 
went,  retracing  her  way,  it  might  seem,  and  ever 
and  anon  parting  the  redundant  dripping  boughs 
to  gaze  upward  at  the  moon.  She  evidently 
steered  her  course  through  this  sea  of  leaves  by  its 
station  in  the  sky.  More  than  once  she  deviated 
from  a  direct  line,  but  it  was  an  oft-travelled  route 
and  she  showed  no  signs  of  hesitation  or  doubt. 
When  she  reached  a  moss-covered  rock,  lying  with 
a  score  of  its  unbroken  kind  in  the  density  of  the 
jungle  she  seated  herself  for  an  interval  of  rest 
after  her  long  tramp,  betraying  not  an  instant's 
uncertainty  of  the  landmark.     She  rose  presently, 

48 


The  Windfall 

passed  between  the  great  boulder  and  another,  im- 
possible to  be  distinguished  from  it  even  in  the 
light  of  mid-day,  stepped  down  into  a  crevice  be- 
neath them,  and  vanished  from  the  world. 

She  had  entered  an  underground  passage  so 
often  traversed  that  the  gruesome  lonely  way  did 
not  seem  long  to  her,  nor  more  beset  with  danger 
than  a  dark  hall  of  one's  familiar  home.  Her  foot 
struck  upon  rock  here  and  there  where  obviously 
there  had  been  drilling  and  blasting  to  remove 
obstructions  to  free  passage ;  now  and  again  a  wing 
passed  her,  and  as  with  a  woman's  horror  of  a  bat 
she  shrank  aside,  the  uncanny,  mouse-like  cry  of  the 
creature  smote  the  silence  with  a  nerve-thrilling 
shrillness  and  she  set  her  teeth  in  endurance, 
though  all  on  edge  from  the  repetitious  echo. 
Louder  sounds  soon  caught  her  attention  and  these 
too  the  echo  multiplied.  She  seemed  to  hear  many 
voices  in  the  infinitely  lonely  subterranean  reaches 
of  the  mountain.  At  last  a  vague  light  began  to 
glimmer  dully  at  the  end  of  a  long  descent.  As 
she  drew  nearer  and  turned  suddenly  the  cavern 
opened  broadly  before  her  and  the  flash  in  her 
eyes  wras  almost  overpowering  for  a  moment.  She 
stood  still  as  she  always  did  here,  and  put  her  face 
in  her  hands  to  gradually  accustom  her  sight  to  the 
transition  from  intensest  gloom  to  glare. 

Yet  it  was  not  that  the  light  in  itself  was  so 
powerful.  The  glimmer  of  a  tallow  dip,  how- 
ever, was  adequate  to  summon  glittering  corusca- 
tions from  the   great  crystals  of  iridescent  calc- 

49 


The  Windfall 

spar  that  studded  the  ceiling,  and  the  limestone 
walls  reflected  the  light  with  myriad  sparkles. 
Their  gleaming  whiteness  was  shared  by  the  stalac- 
tites which  hung  down  from  the  roof  to  meet  the 
stalagmites  uprising  from  the  floor,  and  in  the  midst 
of  this  colonnade  of  the  fantastic  sculpture  of  the 
waters  and  the  ages — even  now  she  could  hear 
the  ceaseless  trickle  as  drop  by  drop  the  mountain 
rill,  charged  with  its  solution  of  lime,  wrought  out 
the  purpose  of  creation — the  moonshiner  had 
mounted  his  still.  The  great  rotund  copper,  stand- 
ing over  the  rude  furnace  of  stone  masonry,  the 
slouching  uncouth  figures  of  the  distillers,  with 
their  grotesque  shadows  following  them  amidst 
these  columns  of  mystic  whiteness,  the  coiling 
worm,  the  big  ungainly  mash-tubs,  the  reeking 
mass  of  refuse  pomace  at  one  side,  were  all  as 
incongruous  with  the  weird  subterranean  beauty 
of  the  place  as  some  unseemly  work  of  kitchening 
wrought  in  the  halls  of  a  palace. 

And  indeed  even  these  uncultured  louts  could 
not  be  insensible  of  the  unique  splendours  of  these 
surroundings.  Unlike  the  majesty  of  the  moun- 
tain landscape,  rendered  stale  by  custom,  since 
from  birth  they  had  known  naught  else,  this  ex- 
pression of  nature  was  rare  and  strange,  and  now 
and  again  their  minds  opened  to  its  aspect. 

"  I  jes'  tell  you  uns,  boys,"  Shadrach  Pinnott 
sometimes  remarked  over  his  meditative  pipe,  "  the 
looks  o'  this  hyar  spot  air  plumb  splendugious. 
Even  the  parlour  in  the  hotel  at  Colb'ry  ain't  ez 

59 


The  Windfall 

fine  a  sight  ez  this  place,  fur  I  hev  walked  along 
the  front  porch  thar,  an'  looked  in  the  door  an' 
viewed  it." 

The  rare  qualities  of  the  place  aided  their  ap- 
preciation, for  though  caves,  vast  and  varied, 
were  common  in  the  mountains,  and  also  "  rock- 
houses,',  as  limited  grottoes  of  special  geological 
deposits  were  called,  they  were  generally  of  a 
different  formation.  This  was  not  a  limestone 
region,  and  only  through  some  gigantic  "  fault  " 
of  the  ranges,  bringing  diverse  and  alien  strata 
into  juxtaposition  this  calcareous  cavern,  these 
halls  of  white  stone,  with  their  stately  colonnades 
and  semblance  of  statuary  and  fantastic  carvings, 
became  possible.  It  was  not,  however,  sufficiently 
rare  to  render  it  a  curiosity  or  to  lure  hither  the 
unwelcome  explorer.  Along  the  line  of  the  range, 
perhaps  within  the  purlieus  of  the  same  vast  up- 
heaval, a  few  limestone  caves  were  known  to  the 
experience  or  the  tradition  of  the  mountaineers. 
But  it  was  the  only  one  of  which  the  Pinnotts  had 
knowledge,  and  they  piqued  themselves  upon  the 
fact  that  their  discovery  was  not  shared.  Its  exist- 
ence, so  far  as  Shadrach  Pinnott  was  aware,  was 
absolutely  unsuspected  save  to  a  few  woodsmen 
like  himself  whose  prowlings  amidst  the  prime- 
val wildernesses  of  the  Great  Smoky  had  led  them 
to  these  deep  seclusions,  and  these  were  associated 
in  the  profit  and  the  dangers  of  the  illicit  distillery. 
Thrice  since  the  still  had  been  in  operation  under 
the  white  splendours  of  the  stalactitic  roof  had  the 

5i 


The  Windfall 

marshal's  men  scoured  this  region  in  search  of  the 
manufacturers  of  moonshine  whisky — thrice  had 
they  ridden  away  no  wiser  than  they  came.  Old 
Shadrach  began  to  fancy  his  stronghold  impregna- 
ble, to  look  forward  to  a  long  lease  of  vinous  pros- 
perity. While  it  might  be  rumoured  that  he  was 
concerned  in  the  "  wild-cat,"  he  could  not  be 
tracked  to  his  lair,  and  much  immunity  had  made 
him  daring  and  enterprising. 

Even  now  the  girl's  entrance  remained  un- 
noticed in  the  vehemence  of  the  remonstrance 
urged  upon  him,  as  he  sat  on  one  of  the  stalag- 
mites that  had  risen  only  a  few  feet  from  the  floor, 
the  stalactite  depending  from  above  scarcely  reach- 
ing the  top  of  his  old  wool  hat.  He  looked  as 
immovable,  as  impervious  to  argument,  as  if  his 
uncouth  figure  piecing  out  the  column  were  of  the 
same  material. 

"  It's  a  resk — it's  a  tumble  resk,"  one  of  the 
younger  men  was  saying.  He  had  an  eager, 
ardent  aspect,  unlike  the  usual  mountain  type,  the 
dull  lack-lustre  Pinnott  men.  He  had  large,  ex- 
cited brown  eyes,  and  his  chestnut  hair  hung  in 
straight  locks  to  the  collar  of  his  blue  hickory  shirt. 
His  cheeks  were  red,  and  now  that  his  blood  was 
up  it  looked  as  if  it  might  burst  through  them. 
He  was  tall  and  agile.  He  wore  his  boots  drawn 
to  the  knees  over  his  brown  jeans  trousers — there 
were  spurs  on  the  heels  and  his  belt  held  a  pistol. 
He  stood  in  the  flare  of  the  tallow  dip  glimmering 
from  a  low  stalagmite  which  was  consigned  to 

52 


The  Windfall 

other  table-like  usage  and  held  also  a  pone  of 
bread,  a  box  of  tobacco,  a  pipe,  and  an  old  hat. 
The  others  had  paused  at  their  labours,  the  dis- 
cussion evidently  being  a  matter  of  special  impor- 
tance, and  looked  around  without  other  change  of 
posture.  Tom  Pinnott,  stooping  to  lift  a  keg  of 
"  singlings  "  to  the  doubling  still,  his  head  lower 
than  the  vessel,  seemed  as  if  he  might  have  been 
petrified  in  that  attitude,  so  little  did  it  seem  possi- 
ble to  sustain  it  by  mere  muscle. 

"  It's  a  resk,  to  be  sure,"  said  Shadrach  Pin- 
nott, his  face  under  his  shock  of  red  hair  as 
devoid  of  animation  as  if  it  had  been  carved 
from  a  turnip.  "  But  ever'thing  is  a  resk.  Livin' 
is  a  resk — no  man  knows  what  he  air  goin'  ter  run 
up  agin  pernicious  afore  night, — but  we  uns  all 
resk  it." 

"  We  uns  don't  all  resk  the  revenuers  though — 
fur  nuthin',"  Eugene  Binley  declared  significantly. 

It  was  a  word  seldom  mentioned  here — the  old 
moonshiner  elected  to  affect  free  agency  and  fear 
of  naught.  If  he  had  been  asked  he  would  have 
averred  that  this  place  was  selected  because  of  its 
peculiar  convenience  in  getting  the  gear  easily 
down  from  the  mountains.  It  had  a  great  shaft- 
like opening  only  fifty  feet  above  the  valley,  and 
by  means  of  a  "  rope-and-tickle,"  as  he  called  it, 
the  kegs  and  barrels  were  lowered  to  a  level  space 
in  a  most  secluded  nook,  whence  they  could  be 
taken  in  the  midst  of  the  jungle  of  the  laurel  and 
rolled  down  the  incline  of  a  sandy  slope,  loaded 

53 


The  Windfall 

into  a  waggon  on  the  bank  of  the  river  and  thence 
conveyed  along  the  highway  under  cover  of  the 
night  to  the  store  of  the  merchants  hardy  enough 
to  handle  this  extra-hazardous  ware.  Shadrach 
Pinnott  would  never  have  admitted  in  words  the 
necessity  to  elude  the  raiders  of  the  revenue  force. 
He  had  so  long  enjoyed  safety,  ease,  the  pursuit 
unmolested  of  his  chosen  vocation,  that  he  actually 
felt  well  within  his  rights,  and  that  no  interference 
with  him  was  either  justifiable  or  possible.  This 
immunity  had  given  his  courage  a  tinge  of  fool- 
hardiness  inconsistent  with  his  age,  his  earlier 
devices  of  precaution,  and  the  terrible  and  certain 
penalties  of  discovery.  His  character  had  taken  on 
an  arrogance  unsuited  to  a  man  so  obnoxious  to 
the  law.  He  knew,  of  course,  that  suspicions  of 
moonshining  had  clung  about  his  name,  but  never 
with  aught  of  proof.  The  marshal's  force  came 
and  went,  and  perhaps  he  was  in  their  minds  merely 
rated  with  others  maligned  by  malice  without  a 
cause,  for  except  that  he  was  an  unusually  good 
farmer,  and  raised  great  crops  of  corn  and  orchards 
of  fruit,  no  evidence  of  illicit  distilling  could  be 
urged  against  him.  For  his  crops  and  fruit,  value- 
less on  account  of  the  distance  from  the  rail  and 
the  impossibility  of  such  cumbrous  transportation 
with  a  profit,  he  could  show  great  droves  of 
well-fed  hogs,  and  they,  easily  driven  through  the 
country,  always  found  a  market  and  brought  fair 
prices.  Therefore  suspicion  on  this  score  was 
readily   evaded,    although  his    detractors    signifi- 

54 


The  Windfall 

cantly  averred  that  hogs  are  always  fattest  when 
fed  on  distillery  mash. 

Dangers  had  grazed  him  close,  however.  Once 
his  waggon  had  been  stopped  in  the  road  with  a 
barrel  of  "  wild-cat "  whisky  under  a  load  of 
goose-feathers.  The  driver  at  the  approach  of 
a  body  of  mounted  men  had  taken  the  alarm,  cut 
the  traces  and  fled  with  the  team,  and  till  it  rotted 
the  waggon  had  stood  there  unclaimed,  its  owner- 
ship unproved,  and  suspicion  could  not  warrant 
even  the  arrest  of  a  man  with  two  good  waggons 
in  his  shed  and  feather-beds  on  every  couch  in 
his  house.  These  incidents  and  their  discussion 
might  well  sharpen  the  eyes  of  the  law,  and  to 
Eugene  Binley  it  seemed  actually  opening  the 
lion's  jaws  by  main  force  to  go  to  the  Street  Fair 
in  the  dry  town  of  Colbury  with  a  waggonload  of 
the  liquid  product  of  the  fiery  still,  under  the  flimsy 
disguise  of  baskets  to  sell.  He  had  urged  this  to 
no  avail. 

"Them  baskets? — why,  me  an'  my  industrious 
fambly  hev  been  weavin'  them  splints  all  las' 
winter,"  and  Shadrach  gave  a  humorous  snuffle 
intended  to  express  the  humble,  frugal  hopes  of 
the  worthy  poor.  Then  he  broke  out  into  a  satiri- 
cal guffaw. 

But  the  blunt  mention  of  the  "  revenuers  "  was 
more  distasteful.  He  could  but  feel  his  jeopardy 
when  it  was  thus  brought  before  him.  Perhaps, 
— who  knows? — now  that  he  was  old  he  regretted 
his  course  for  the  sake  of  his  sons,  to  whom  he 

55. 


The  Windfall 

must  leave  so  desperate  a  vocation,  so  rash  an 
example,  so  uncertain  a  fate.  The  delight  of 
defying  the  law  when  the  conscience  can  appre- 
hend no  wrong, — for  Shadrach  Pinnott  could 
never  be  brought  to  perceive  that  he  had  not  an 
inalienable  prerogative  to  do  as  he  chose  with 
his  own,  his  corn,  his  fruit,  to  feed  them,  to 
distil  them,  to  export  them,  for  were  they  not  his, 
had  he  not  wrested  them  from  his  own  land  by 
the  sweat  of  his  brow,  the  work  of  his  hands, — 
better  men  have  shared  and  resisted  encroach- 
ments, and  defied  taxation,  and  risen  in  defence 
of  claims  that  the  law  disallowed  and  made  them 
law.  Of  late  years  he  had  more  earnestly  argued 
this  position  within  himself,  and  now  and  again  in 
full  conclave  as  they  all  sat  in  the  chill  white 
cavern  over  the  coiling  toils  of  the  worm,  the 
younger  men  drinking  in  his  prelections  that  had 
the  native  strength  of  apple  brandy.  He  was  an 
autocrat  amongst  them;  it  was  an  indignity,  an 
affront,  a  disrespect  to  his  grey  hair  and  his  pre- 
eminence in  his  station  to  confront  him,  even  in 
warning,  with  so  appalling  and  degrading  a  dis- 
aster.    He  retorted  instantly. 

11  Waal,  the  resk  ain't  much  ter  be  med^r'ui'," 
he  said.  "  Folks  that  ain't  so  damned  quick  on 
the  trigger  ain't  got  no  call  ter  be  so  powerful 
'feared." 

Eugene  Binley  winced  palpably  for  a  moment. 
Then  his  dark  eyebrows  met  above  his  blazing 
eyes  and  the  blood  surged  up  from  his  cheeks  to 

56 


The  Windfall 

the  roots  of  his  hair.  His  breath  came  hard  and 
fast.  He  turned  from  one  to  the  other  as  two 
of  the  Pinnott  sons,  taking  the  word  from  their 
father,  began  alternately  to  bait  him. 

"  Which  air  you  uns  mos'  afeard  of,  Eujeemes 
— ter  stay  hyar  by  yer  lone  an'  let  the  revenuers 
ketch  ye?  " 

"  Or  ter  go  ter  Colb'ry  along  o'  we  uns  an' 
hev  the  sher'ff  nab  ye?  "  the  other  agreeably  sug- 
gested. 

Eugene  Binley  stood  snorting  like  an  angry 
horse,  glancing  first  at  the  one  with  a  bag  of 
grain  on  his  shoulder  and  then  at  the  other  with 
the  keg  of  singlings,  as  both,  half  bent,  leered  up 
at  him  from  under  their  shocks  of  frowsy  light 
hair,  their  long  tobacco-stained  teeth  all  bared  in 
their  flouting  laugh.  His  right  hand  was  con- 
tinually touching  the  butt  of  his  pistol  in  his  belt, 
and  drawing  back  as  if  he  found  it  scorching  hot. 
The  old  man  felt  called  upon  to  interfere. 

"  Leave  Eujeemes  be,  boys,"  he  said  pacifically. 
"  'Twon't  do  ter  bait  him  like  a  b'ar.  Mos'  men 
in  the  mountings  hev  killed  a  man,  fust  or  las', 
funnin'  or  fightin'.  Eujeemes  ain't  the  fust  an' 
'tain't  likely  ez  he  will  be  the  las'." 

"  But  't  war  self-defence,"  the  harassed  creature 
cried  out  in  a  harsh,  strained  voice.  He  had  made 
this  plea  often  enough  at  the  bar  of  conscience — 
his  flight  had  precluded  his  arraignment  at  the 
bar  of  justice.  "  'T  war  self-defence — the  world 
knows  it,  and  the  law  allows  it." 

57 


The  Windfall 

"  Then  why  n't  ye  leave  it  ter  men,  Eujeemes?  " 
Tom's  strong  back  was  still  bent  under  the  keg 
of  singlings,  and  his  face  was  still  maliciously 
a-grin.  Shadrach  could  not  so  easily  call  off  his 
pack. 

This  problem  of  "  leaving  it  to  men,"  the  rural 
synonym  of  a  court  of  justice,  had  tortured  the 
hunted  fugitive  day  and  night.  With  the  limited 
mental  development  of  a  backwoodsman  and  the 
lack  of  urban  or  worldly  experience  he  could  not 
measure  the  unseen  forces  to  which  he  might  con- 
sign his  fate  and  thus  he  resolved  and  then  shrank 
back,  and  ventured  forth  to  again  run  precipitately 
to  cover.  What  the  lawyers  could  prove  and  what 
they  could  not;  how  much  their  own  codes  con- 
strained them  and  what  they  stretched  here  and 
let  fall  slack  there;  what  powers  the  judge  pos- 
sessed; how  grim  was  the  jail;  how  fell  and  ran- 
corous were  the  officers  of  the  constabulary — 
he  could  not  decide.  And  thus  he  lurked  here 
innocent  of  the  crime  of  which  he  dreaded  to  be 
accused,  and  by  his  lurking  he  became  inculpated 
with  the  illicit  distillery.  Now  he  was  doubly 
amenable  to  arrest — to  escape  on  one  score  would 
convict  him  on  another,  and  the  suggestion  that 
he  should  leave  aught  to  men  had  become  a 
nettling  taunt.  As  he  remained  silent  Ben  flung 
at  him  in  antistrophe — "  Ef  he  be  so  willin'  ter 
leave  it  ter  men  why  do  he  shelter  hyar  with  we 
uns?" 

Once  more  Shadrach  sought  to  interfere,  be- 

58 


The  Windfall 

ginning  in  an  unctuous  soothing  voice — "  Stop, 
boys,  stop,  boys,"  when  suddenly  Clotilda  stepped 
forward  into  the  white  lustre  of  the  sparkling  walls 
and  the  glimmer  of  the  tallow  dip.  Her  presence 
ended  logic.  "Why,  thar's  daddy's  leetle  gal! 
How  do,  Baby.  Been  singin'  an'  chirpin'  with 
the  stranger  man  like  a  grasshopper  in  August 
weather." 

Clotilda  received  this  simile  with  a  shrug  of 
disdain.  She  had  begun  to  think  exceedingly  well 
of  her  gifts  of  singing  and  dancing  and  scarcely 
cared  that  they  should  be  so  lightly  and  jo- 
cosely mentioned.  Vanity  of  all  the  human 
traits  is  the  most  easily  cultivated,  and  when  Eu- 
gene Binley,  gathering  his  composure,  asked  if 
she  were  going  to  Colbury,  too,  with  the  others, 
she  replied  with  a  duplicate  of  the  shrug — "  Why, 
'course  /  be.  They  air  all  goin'  jes'  on  account 
o'  Me." 


59 


CHAPTER  IV 

AN  extreme  surprise  at  the  good  fortune  of 
/-\  another  is  an  ungrateful  sentiment  and 
<L  -m»must  needs  be  warily  expressed.  It  tends 
to  the  suggestion  that  the  reward  exceeds  the  merits 
in  the  case,  and  Eugene  Binley  by  no  means  com- 
mended himself  by  the  astonishment  with  which 
he  now  heard  for  the  first  time  the  extraordinary 
fact,  which  Clotilda  detailed  to  him,  that  her  sing- 
ing and  dancing  had  so  entranced  the  town-man 
that  he  had  besought  the  Pinnott  family  to  come 
to  the  Street  Fair  without  money  and  without 
price,  and  that  there  she  was  to  sing  and  dance 
for  all  the  crowd  to  wonder  at  her  gifts  and  grace. 

"  That  ain't  whut  the  Pinnott  men-folks  air 
goin'  fur,"  he  said  bluntly;  "  they  air  goin'  ter  sell 
whisky  in  that  thar  dry  town."  And  he  pointed 
over  his  shoulder  at  a  load  of  splint  baskets  which 
several  were  bringing  out  of  a  remote  recess,  and 
which  were  always  unused  and  fresh,  kept  as  a 
light  disguise  for  a  waggon  otherwise  laden.  "  It's 
mighty  dangerous,"  he  added.  But  she  made  no 
comment.  Presumably  she  thought  the  men  were 
able  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  recurred  to  the 
subject  important  to  none  but  himself  and  her. 

60 


The  Windfall 

"  Singin'  with  the  stranger-man!  I  wondered 
why  you  uns  war  so  long  a-comin'  down." 

He  lifted  one  hand  to  that  miracle  of  nature, 
the  snowy  stalagmite  that  expressed  the  marvels 
wrought  by  time,  that  aggregated  drops  of  water, 
each  with  its  charge  of  lime,  falling  and  falling 
on  the  floor  beneath  till  the  great  pillar  stood  com- 
plete. As  he  leaned  thus  he  looked  down  re- 
proachfully upon  her. 

It  was  hard  for  her  to  regain  her  wonted  state 
of  mind.     So  fluttered,  so  elated  she  had  been. 

"  It  ain't  much  later  than  common,"  she  said 
absently,  fingering  a  red  bead  necklace  around  her 
throat.  He,  who  knew  her  simple  gauds,  was 
aware  that  she  rarely  wore  it  and  accounted  it  a 
treasure.  He  divined  that  it  had  been  donned  to 
rejoice  the  eyes  of  an  admiring  stranger. 

"I  s'pose  he  war  all  streck  of  a  heap?"  he 
said  craftily,  his  eyes  narrowing  as  he  looked 
intently  at  her. 

"  I  dunno  'bout  that,"  she  laughed  coquettishly. 

"What  sort  o'  appearin'  man  war  he?"  Eu- 
gene demanded,  arrogating  the  prerogative  of 
inquisition. 

He  was  not  altogether  at  ease  amongst  the  men, 
and  was  sometimes  conscious  of  a  disadvantage 
with  them,  owing  to  the  anomaly  of  his  position, 
forced  into  a  crime  against  the  Federal  law,  of 
which  he  became  guilty  to  evade  trial  for  a  crime 
against  the  State  law  of  which  he  knew  himself 
innocent.     He  had  not  demonstrated  any  great 

61 


The  Windfall 

judgment  or  capacity  in  this  course,  and  he  knew 
it  affected  their  estimate.  Other  men  had  done 
more  heinous  deeds  who  swaggered  openly  in  the 
coves.  It  was  in  the  first  rush  of  terror,  the  first 
ill-considered  impulse  that  he  had  come  here,  and 
once  entrusted  with  the  moonshiners'  secret  he 
could  not,  he  would  not  draw  back.  Ill  luck  might 
befall  them,  and  here  indeed  was  a  danger.  The 
fate  of  the  informer,  real  or  suspected,  was  a  more 
inevitable  terror  than  all  else  that  menaced  him. 
But  he  felt  all  a  man's  ascendency  over  the  femi- 
nine mind,  and  indeed  she  divined  naught  as  she 
replied  to  his  questions. 

"  Waal,  he  is  just  a  pretty  boy — plumb  beau- 
tiful !     Mighty  nigh  ez  sweet-faced  ez  any  gal." 

"  I  say  '  boy  ' !  "  he  replied  incredulously. 
"  They  tell  me  ez  he  laid  Tawm  out  flat  with 
one  lick.     Tawm  hev  been  lame  in  the  shoulder 


ever  sence." 


"  Waal — he  is  surely  strong,  though  only 
middle-sized,  but  mild-eyed — sorter  babyfied." 

"  Shucks !  I  say  babyfied.  Waal — all  you  uns 
goin'  ter  the  show,  an'  hyar  I  be  'feared  ter  stir, 
— hid  up  hyar  in  a  hole  in  the  rocks  like  a  wolf 
or  a  painter  an'  cz  ef  thar  war  a  bounty  on  my 
skelp." 

"  'Tain't  but  fur  a  week — less  'n  a  week,"  she 
urged. 

"  You  uns  don't  keer — else  ye  wouldn't  go," 
he  said,  dropping  his  voice,  and  all  his  heart  was 
in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  down  at  her. 

62 


The  Windfall 

She  had  her  moments  of  perspicacity.  "  Then 
I  won't  go,"  she  said,  with  the  facile  self-abnega- 
tion of  one  who  knows  that  the  tendered  sacrifice 
will  not  be  accepted. 

He  suddenly  came  from  his  negligent  posture  to 
the  perpendicular,  tense  and  nervous.  "  Naw, 
naw — I  don't  want  that  nuther,"  he  protested  as 
she  had  expected. 

"  I  'lows  ye  don't  rightly  know  whut  'tis  ye  do 
want!"  she  declared  with  an  air  of  flouting 
impatience. 

"  Yes,  I  do  too — but  I  couldn't  abide  ez  ye 
should  miss  seein'  the  show — an'  mebbe  later  in 
the  week  I'll  slip  down,  too." 

A  genuinely  serious  look  usurped  the  feignings 
of  her  face.  "  Better  mind,  Eujeemes,"  she  ad- 
monished him,  "  ye  mought  meet  the  sher'ff  face 
ter  face  in  the  street.  He  be  well  acquainted  with 
you  uns — ye  hev  tole  me  that!  "  She  nodded  her 
head  with  an  expression  of  dreary  foreboding. 

"  Waal,"  he  said  desperately,  but  evidently 
faint-hearted,  "  I  could  leave  it  ter  men." 

She  looked  at  him  in  rising  irritation,  half 
minded  to  withhold  the  remonstrance  that  she 
knew  he  pined  to  hear.  His  own  sense  of  pru- 
dence made  him  yearn  for  an  urgency  of  caution. 
But  she  was  yet  vibrating  with  the  unwonted  ex- 
citements of  the  afternoon,  yet  aglow  with  the 
realisation  of  an  admiration  all  unaccustomed  in  its 
expression  and  its  subject.  She  was  well  aware 
that  she  had  been  considered  a  "  powerful  pretty 

63 


The  Windfall 

gal "  throughout  the  countryside,  and  though  the 
small  distorted  surface  of  a  cheap  mirror  afforded 
no  adequate  reflection  of  her  beauty,  it  was  well- 
pleasing  to  her  untutored  eye,  and  was  called  into 
frequent  consultation.  But  this  popular  repute 
was  an  homage  shared  by  a  dozen  other  mountain 
nymphs,  and  in  more  than  one  instance  she  was 
surpassed  in  public  esteem  chiefly  on  account  of 
the  tint  of  her  red  hair  and  the  tiny  freckles  here 
and  there  marring  the  exquisite  fairness  of  her 
face,  despite  all  that  baths  of  buttermilk  and  May 
dew  could  compass. 

The  incense  that  the  manager  offered  at  her 
shrine  had  a  new  and  intoxicating  flavour.  It 
was  unique,  for  her  alone.  It  was  such  as  an 
artist  might  feel  at  the  first  view  of  some  fine 
example  of  a  great  painter's  work,  or  a  virtuoso's 
joy  in  the  discovery  amongst  refuse  lumber  of  a 
genuine  Cremona.  She  could  not,  of  course, 
discriminate  the  quality  of  his  feeling,  but  she  had 
never  seen  a  man's  face  kindle  with  that  imper- 
sonal fervour  of  delight  which  illumined  his  when 
he  looked  at  her  dancing  pose  and  listened  to  the 
tones  of  her  voice.  She  had  begun  to  feel  very 
kindly  toward  one  who  made  her  feel  so  kindly 
toward  herself.  Since  she  had  discovered  that  her 
father  considered  it  impossible  that  he  could  be  an 
emissary  of  the  revenue  force  seeking  the  moon- 
shiner's lair,  for  which  she  had  mistaken  him  when 
she  had  so  jealously  guarded  him  to  the  house  that 
he  might  render  an  account  of  himself  to  the  head 

64 


The  Windfall 

of  the  enterprise,  she  had  given  rein  to  her  in- 
terest in  his  personality;  she  had  realised  with  a 
sort  of  wondering  pleasure  the  delicacy,  the  refine- 
ment of  the  beauty  of  his  face;  her  heart  warmed 
to  the  look  in  his  eyes.  She  had  now  no  doubts 
of  him;  that  universal  attraction  which  his  candid 
nature  seemed  to  exert  on  all  the  world  had  too 
its  influence  on  her.  She  had  begun  to  entertain 
a  sort  of  veneration  for  him,  his  wide  experience, 
his  evident  singular  knowledge  of  many  things  be- 
yond her  ken — with  how  few  words  he  had 
seemed  to  make  her  voice,  even  to  her  limited 
comprehension,  a  different  endowment,  infinitely 
sweeter,  stronger,  with  added  liberties  of  compass. 
She  longed  even  now  to  try  the  phrases  which  he 
had  inculcated,  telling  her  to  sing  them  at  short 
intervals  and  with  due  care,  to  assume  her  natural 
beautiful  dancing  poses,  which  he  had  taught  her 
to  accent  for  the  greater  effect. 

The  unknown  vast  world  from  which  he  had 
come  had  evolved  a  sudden  interest  for  her;  here- 
tofore she  had  not  even  bethought  herself  to  be 
aware  of  its  existence,  save  as  it  now  and  again 
spewed  out  the  revenue  force,  with  their  sombre 
menace,  to  be  presently  lost  again  in  its  unimagined 
turmoils. 

Her  mind  was  full  of  speculations  concerning 
him.  He  was  her  first  illustration  of  the  grada- 
tions of  society;  he  seemed  to  her  a  person  of  vast 
importance;  she  had  a  sort  of  reverence  for  the 
splendours  of  his  calling;    he  was  a  showman — 

65 


The  Windfall 

a  part  owner  of  the  great  enterprise  whose  "  pic- 
torial paper  "  he  had  spread  upon  the  cabin  floor, 
and  he  had  opened  to  her  a  world  of  wonders  to 
contemplate.  Her  beautiful  eyes  grew  soft  and 
bright  with  the  thought  of  him. 

Her  mind  longed  to  follow  the  trend  of  these 
new  reflections.  She  was  tired  all  at  once  of 
Eugene  Binley's  woes.  The  injustice  in  his  in- 
carceration here  in  the  moonshiner's  den  was  itself 
like  the  penance  of  imprisonment  for  a  crime 
of  which  he  believed  himself  innocent.  Yet  in 
putting  the  question  to  the  test  he  risked  more 
than  his  liberty — his  life  itself  was  jeopardised. 
His  hard  case  had  appealed  to  her  woman's  sym- 
pathy— the  future  was  dim,  veiled,  he  might  not 
divine  the  issue  of  a  day.  He  had  had  a  certain 
interest  for  her;  he  was  of  a  more  dashing  per- 
sonality than  the  duller  men  she  had  known.  The 
impulsive  temperament  that  had  lured  him  to  his 
doom  had  a  quality  that  struck  her  fancy  in  dearth 
of  other  attractions.  He  was  quick,  keen,  fiery, 
and  he  had  a  spark  of  imagination  that  imparted 
warmth  to  others,  bare  and  cold  of  mental  attri- 
butes. He  had  added  to  his  more  definite  and 
obvious  troubles  the  aesthetic  grief  of  falling  des- 
perately in  love,  and  in  a  cautious  and  dubious  way 
she  had  responded.  This  was  a  sentimental  result 
of  the  privilege  of  shelter  which  Shadrach  Pinnott 
had  not  anticipated,  and  which  he  by  no  means 
favoured.  He  had  secured  for  the  bare  boon  of 
subsistence  an  additional  stalwart  worker  at  the 

66 


The  Windfall 

still,  and  one  whose  secrecy  was  pledged  for  the 
best  of  reasons.  That  Eugene  Binley  could  not 
venture  freely  forth  like  the  others,  that  he  was 
not  subject,  therefore,  to  disclose  by  inadvertence 
in  casual  conversation  the  secrets  of  the  trade, 
since  he  saw  no  one  not  concerned  in  the  illicit 
manufacture,  gave  him  an  added  value  to  his  em- 
ployer which  Shadrach  was  not  slow  to  appreciate. 
More  countenance  than  shelter  and  subsistence  he 
had  no  mind  to  afford  him.  Shadrach  had  taken 
no  steps,  however,  to  balk  the  romance  thus  far. 
He  had  some  knowledge,  perhaps,  of  the  incon- 
stancy of  the  feminine  heart,  and  relied  on  this  to 
furnish  in  due  time  the  solution  of  the  problem, 
or  perhaps  like  many  other  people  he  merely  post- 
poned to  a  more  convenient  season  the  guessing  of 
the  'difficult  riddle  which  circumstance  had  pro- 
pounded. Hence,  though  he  now  and  then  glanced 
askance  at  the  lovers  as  they  stood  half  in  the 
shadow  of  the  stalagmite,  and  half  in  the  thin 
white  light  of  the  tallow  dip,  he  said  naught  to 
discourage  the  "  fool  chin-choppin' "  as  he  de- 
nominated their  talk,  thinking  it  the  course  least 
calculated  to  do  harm.  "  Lovyers  let  alone  will 
quar'l  enough  tharselves  ter  fling  'em  apart.  A 
peaceable  disposed  person  needn't  'sturb  hisself  ter 
start  a  contention  jes'  ter  separate  'em,"  he  argued 
within  himself. 

"  Leave  it  ter  men?  "  she  was  echoing  Binley's 
words  dully.  "  I'd  hate  powerful  ter  leave  any- 
think  ez  I  war  took  up  with  ter  sech  ez  men." 


The  Windfall 

She  gazed  speculatively  about  the  place,  sud- 
denly illumined  with  a  preternatural  brilliancy  as 
Daniel  Pinnott  flung  open  the  furnace  door.  All 
the  white  colonnades  were  a-glister  with  myriads 
of  sparkling  points  of  light.  Far,  far  down  the 
shadowy  reaches  of  the  cave  they  were  visible  now, 
with  stately  arches  marking  the  confines  of  other 
and  further  chambers,  unexplored  perhaps  and  of 
an  undemonstrated  vastness.  The  light  brought 
into  evidence  that  peculiar  incrustation  of  the  walls 
of  limestone  caverns  which  takes  the  semblance  of 
flowers,  the  rough  projections  seeming  roses,  lilies 
wrought  in  the  rock,  the  similitude  being  so  exact 
that  here  and  there  a  flower  can  be  found  as  per- 
fect of  symmetry  as  if  carved  by  the  chisel  of  a 
cunning  workman.  Glimpsed  through  one  of  the 
lofty  arches  the  depending  stalactites  in  a  heavy 
group  might  have  suggested  to  a  cultivated 
imagination  a  great  chandelier  of  imposing  pro- 
portions and  thus  have  heightened  the  semblance 
to  some  stately  hall,  the  audience  chamber  of  a 
sovereign,  the  throne-room  of  the  buried  splen- 
dours of  some  forgotten  magic  monarchy.  The 
limitations  of  Clotilda's  experience  and  mental 
scope  forbade  the  fancy,  but  the  uncouth  forms  of 
the  distillers  with  their  slouching  shadows,  their 
big  hats,  their  bent  postures,  their  dull  lack-lustre 
faces,  their  grotesque  gestures,  gnome-like  at  their 
work,  seemed  indeed  at  variance  with  this  scene  of 
weird  beauty,  and  little  suggestive  of  those  higher 

68 


The  Windfall 

attributes  of  justice,  of  acumen,  of  perspicacity. 
"  I'd  sure  hate  ter  leave  it  ter  men." 

It  was  the  subject  in  all  the  world  of  paramount 
importance  to  him,  and  he  was  eagerly  ready  for 
the  discussion  of  its  phases  anew.  Every  point 
they  had  often  canvassed  together  with  the  keen- 
ness of  a  vital  mutual  interest,  and  there  was 
naught  new  to  urge.  But  as  he  shifted  his  weight, 
though  still  leaning  against  the  pillar,  and  brought 
his  brows  together  in  a  dubitating  frown  and  be- 
gan, "  Waal,  now," — she  suddenly  revolted  from 
the  theme.  Her  mind,  her  heart  were  elsewhere. 
She  hastily  interrupted — "  Of  course,  though,  it's 
jes'  ez  ye  think.  Mebbe  it  would  be  best,  arter 
all,  ter  leave  it  ter  men." 

Adversity  is  said  to  be  of  vast  moral  value  in 
the  discipline  of  the  heart;  it  is  a  whetstone  to  the 
wits  as  well.  Eugene  Binley  caught  all  the  sense 
of  dismissal  that  was  in  her  mind  as  it  uncon- 
sciously, insistently  reached  out  for  the  new 
thoughts  that  surged  upon  it.  He  was  cut  to  the 
soul.  All  that  he  had  was  at  stake,  his  liberty, 
his  life,  or — if  this  unavailing  seclusion  were  gratu- 
itous— his  restoration  to  the  free,  independent, 
open  walks  of  existence.  A  terrible  doubt  be- 
set him.  Did  she  indeed  care  no  longer?  Had 
she  ever  cared — or  was  it  but  an  idle  whim  in 
default  of  more  serious  interest  that  had  lured  his 
heart  from  him?  He  could  not  judge.  His  head 
was  in  a  whirl.     But  remonstrance  might  avail 

69 


[The  Windfall 

naught.  It  was  the  fact  that  impressed  his  mind. 
He  had  surprised  the  revolt  of  her  sentiment — it 
had  been  a  momentary  illumination  like  that  of 
the  open  furnace  door,  now  clashed  close  again, 
leaving  the  cave  to  its  dull  shadow,  the  far  reaches 
of  dense  blackness  through  distant  arches,  the  dim 
pure  white  radiance  of  the  tallow  dip,  the  subdued 
scintillations  of  the  stalagmitic  colonnades,  the  dull 
rotund  glister  of  the  copper  still,  the  vermicular 
suggestions  of  the  worm  coiled  up  in  the  condenser, 
the  intense  line  of  vivid  white  light  that  defined 
the  lower  edge  of  the  furnace  door,  the  metal 
fitting  ill  to  the  masonry,  and  thus  giving  a  glimpse 
of  the  roaring  fire  within.  Clotilda  had  turned 
her  face  upward  toward  Eugene  Binley,  as  if  wait- 
ing for  him  to  speak,  but  there  was  within  it  no 
light  of  interest,  only  dull  attention. 

He  tried  the  experiment  deliberately.  "  Oh,  we 
uns  can't  make  no  decision  now,  short  off;  we  uns 
hev  been  along  that  road  many  a  time ;  but  we  don't 
often  hev  news  in  the  mountings.  Tell  me  su'thin' 
more  'bout  the  show  an'  that  thar  showman." 

Her  face  was  suddenly  irradiated. 

"  You  uns  never  hearn  the  beat  in  all  yer  life," 
she  said,  her  eyes  dilated  and  her  head  nodding 
to  one  side,  with  pride  and  delight.  "  He  sung 
sweeter  than  any  mawkin'  bird,  but  he  said  ter 
me,  '  Lydy,  ef  ye'll  permit  me  ter  say  it,'  " — she 
imitated  Lloyd's  grave,  circumspect  manner,  "  '  it's 
a  monstious  pity  fur  yer  rare  voice  an'  yer  'strodi- 
nary  grace  in  dancin'  ter  be  wasted  hyar  in  this 

70 


The  Windfall 

wilderness — would  ye  consider  a  proposition  ter 
puffawm  in  public? '  " 

She  bent  forward  in  such  a  pretty  reverential 
bow  that  Tom  Pinnott,  lying  on  a  pile  of  sacks  of 
grain, — his  shoulder  was  still  lame,  and  he  rested 
it  at  close  intervals, — called  out  to  the  others: 

"  Look-a-yander  at  Clotildy.  She  air  mawkin' 
the    stranger-man.      It's   the   very   moral   o'    the 


critter." 


Binley  had  a  vague  realisation  of  the  grinning 
of  half  a  dozen  sets  of  great  tobacco-browned 
teeth  among  the  group  that  sat  around  the  furnace, 
perched  on  kegs  or  inverted  baskets,  or  sacks  of 
grain.  His  head  was  unsteady.  His  heart  beat 
tumultuously.  He  hardly  knew  what  was  this 
obsession  that  had  enthralled  him.  Jealousy  he 
had  felt  ere  this  in  minor  matters,  but  he  had  so 
little  conception  of  the  strength  of  the  passion  that 
now,  when  it  grappled  with  him,  he  did  not 
recognise  it. 

"  I  went  straight  an'  axed  dad  ef  I  mought," 
Clotilda  resumed,  a  little  thread  of  continuous 
laughter  trickling  through  her  words,  like  a  rivulet 
that  cannot  stay  its  joyous  course.  "  I  tuk  dad 
out  on  the  porch  'cause  he  blates  so  loud  whenst 
he  talks — an'  fust  he  said  naw,  and  then  when 
he  'membered  'bout  sellin'  whisky  ter  the  crowd 
on  the  quiet  in  that  dry  town,  and  that  folks  would 
'low  ez  the  family  war  thar  jes'  ter  view  me  sing 
an'  dance  an'  not  ter  sell  moonshine,  it  'peared  ter 
him  a  powerful  good  excuse  ter  go." 

71 


The  Windfall 

"  Hop  light,  ladies,"  sang  out  Tom,  who  had 
a  powerful  organ  in  his  own  deep  chest. 

But  Clotilda  put  her  hands  to  her  ears  with  a 
grimace  of  pain.  "  I  never  wants  ter  hear  no 
other  man  sing — that  stranger's  voice  was  like — 
like  honey.     'Twar  so — sweet — soundin'." 

Her  pensive  lids  drooped  above  her  great  bright 
eyes  and  she  gave  a  shuddering  little  sigh,  as  if 
the  ecstatic  remembrance  were  fraught  with  an 
appreciated  pain. 

Old  Shadrach  Pinnott  had  a  sudden  monition 
of  business.  "  That's  a  fac',  boys,"  he  said,  taking 
his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  "  every  durned  imp  of 
ye  mus'  be  at  the  tent  ter  hear  Clotildy  puffawm 
— 'tis  the  reason  folks  mus'  understand  why  we 
uns  all  waggon  down  ter  Colb'ry.  Mam'll  go, 
an'  A'minty  an'  the  baby,  all  o'  we  uns  will  go, 
an'  nobody  on  yearth  would  suspicion  ez  we  uns 
kem  fur  ennything  else  than  ter  hear  an'  see  Clo- 
tildy sing  an'  dance  in  a  public  puffawmance." 

He  puffed  his  pipe  for  a  few  minutes  while  the 
others  gave  varying  growls  of  more  or  less  reluc- 
tant acquiescence  as  they  accorded  or  disagreed 
with  his  view  of  the  importance  of  their  appear- 
ance as  spectators  on  the  occasion.  He  possibly 
discriminated  this  note  of  dissent,  for  he  remarked 
presently — "  It  air  sure  a  powerful  oncommon 
happening — I  reckon  Clotildy  will  be  the  fust 
mounting  gal  that  ever  sung  an'  danced  in  a  show 


tent." 


"An'  she  ought  ter  be  the  las',"  said  Daniel 

72 


The  Windfall 

Pinnott  sourly.  He  was  the  conservative  one  of 
the  sons,  a  settled  married  man,  and  he  had  the 
married  man's  insistent  convictions  as  to  the  pro- 
priety of  demeanour  and  decorous  home-abiding 
fitting  for  the  female  sex.  He  remembered,  too, 
the  reach  of  the  long  arm  of  the  Revenue  Depart- 
ment. Though  a  volcano  may  be  silent,  sleeping, 
the  hot  heart  of  the  crater  burns  with  an  inextin- 
guishable fire.  He  did  not  venture  to  openly 
oppose  the  determination  of  the  paternal  auto- 
crat, but  he  had  done  his  utmost  to  dissuade  the 
enterprise. 

The  elder  man  made  no  direct  rejoinder,  but  he 
nevertheless  combated  this  spirit  of  negation. 
"  Colb'ry  hev  been  mighty  dry — sence  it's  been  a 
dry  town,"  he  said  significantly,  speaking  with  his 
pipe  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth.  "  I  reckon 
folkses'  throats  thar  air  about  ez  dry  ez  a  lime- 
burner's  kiln." 

The  younger  moonshiners  eyed  the  dissentient 
Daniel  with  a  degree  of  rancour.  "  I'll  be  bound 
they'll  nose  out  our  waggon  powerful  quick,"  said 
Tom.  "  We'll  sell  a  deal  o'  liquor,  else  I'm 
mightily  s'prised." 

Old  Shadrach  nodded  assentingly. 

"  It'll  take  a  heap  o'  liquor  ter  git  a  prohibition 
town  soaked  through  an'  through.  We  uns  hev 
got  a  week  though  ter  finish  the  business.  The 
Street  Fair  will  show  fur  a  week." 

"  An'  I'm  ter  sing  an'  dance  twict  every  day," 
cried  Clotilda  delightedly.     She   had  listened  to 

73 


The  Windfall 

the  colloquy  of  the  group  around  the  still  with  a 
very  definite  anxiety  lest  from  Daniel's  doubts  and 
remonstrances  a  final  abandonment  of  the  project 
ensue.  She  now  leaned  her  fluffy  auburn  head 
back  against  the  great  stalagmite  and  laughed  with 
a  renewal  of  zest  and  cheer  as  she  cast  up  her  eyes 
at  Eugene  Binley,  who  still  stood  beside  her  look- 
ing loweringly  down  at  her. 

There  was  something  so  aloof,  so  smitten,  yet 
so  menacing  in  his  eyes  that  her  elated  spirits  sud- 
denly collapsed.  It  suggested  the  frightful  pathos 
of  a  savage  animal,  sorely  wounded  and  suffering, 
yet  with  an  unabated  ferocity.  The  very  look 
numbed  her  joy. 

"  I  be  powerful  sorry  ez  you  uns  can't  be  thar 
ter  see  me,"  she  declared  falteringly,  suddenly 
drawn  back  from  her  soft  conceits  of  anticipation 
to  this  sullen  reality. 

"  Oh,  I'll  be  thar,"  he  protested  with  a  forlorn 
lame  joviality. 

"  Eujeemes  will  be  afeared  ez  Clotildy  will  be 
gittin'  merried  ter  some  o'  them  town  men  whilst 
he  be  hid  out  in  the  mountings.  I  reckon  other 
folks  will  be  streck  all  of  a  heap  with  her  puf- 
fawmin'  jes  the  same  ez  that  thar  stranger-man," 
Tom  observed  as  he  lay  at  length. 

Tom  had  but  the  primitive  processes  of  mind 
and  feeling.  He  possessed  no  cultivated  sensi- 
bilities either  for  himself  or  for  others,  and  even 
his  perceptions  of  policy  were  rudimentary.  The 
old  man,  the  exemplar  of  all  the  distillers,  by  virtue 

74 


The  Windfall 

of  his  age,  his  experience,  his  patriarchal  position, 
struck  in  abruptly  with  a  sharp  reproof. 

"  Ain't  you  uns  got  no  better  sense  an'  showin\ 
Tawmmy,  than  ter  be  settin'  out  so  brash  ter  talk 
'bout  things  that  ye  dunno  nuthin'  'bout?  Clo- 
tildy  ain't  goin'  ter  be  allowed  ter  marry  nobody 
till  she's  twenty,  an'  she  hev  now  jes'  turned 
eighteen." 

"Twenty!"  exclaimed  Clotilda  with  a  sudden 
revival  of  interest.  "  Why,  I'll  feel  so  old  whenst 
I'm  twenty  that  I  reckon  I'll  hev  ter  walk  with  a 
stick  by  then." 

"  Like  the  stranger-man  do  now,"  cried  Tom, 
the  irrepressible.  He  sprang  up  and  took  a  few 
erratic  steps  along  the  aisle  of  the  arcade,  twirling 
an  imaginary  cane,  now  flinging  it  jauntily  up  into 
the  air,  now  striking  it  with  emphasis  on  the 
ground,  but  a  sudden  twinge  in  his  lame  shoulder 
gave  him  pause.  He  stopped  short,  with  a 
grimace  of  pain,  seeking  to  put  his  hand  to  it,  and 
then  he  came  heavily  enough  back  to  the  furnace 
and  sank  down  on  his  improvised  couch  of  sacks 
of  grain.  "  He  air  a  better  man  than  you  uns — 
he  downed  you  uns,  Tawmmy,"  Clotilda  ex- 
claimed with  such  obvious  pleasure  and  pride  in 
the  stranger's  prowess  that  Shadrach  Pinnott  was 
minded  to  take  reluctant  account  of  the  cloud  that 
lowered  on  the  brow  of  Eugene  Binley. 

"  Shucks,"  he  said  contemptuously,  "  that  war 
jes'  sleight  o'  hand.  Them  show  folks  hev  l'arned 
tricks   that  take   the   eye.     He   ain't  no   spunky 

75 


The  Windfall 

fighter  sech  ez — sech  ez — waal,  sech  ez  Eujeemes 
thar  fur  instance." 

There  was  a  momentary  pause,  broken  only  by 
the  muffled  roar  of  the  flames  of  the  furnace  fire 
and  the  trickle  of  the  doublings  dropping  down 
from  the  worm  into  the  keg  below. 

"  You  boys  mus'  be  powerful  cautious,"  Sha- 
drach  Pinnott  presently  remarked  with  a  serious 
thought.  "You  uns  mus'  n't  talk  foolish  an'  wild. 
Course  Eujeemes  ain't  got  no  notion,  sure  enough, 
o'  goin'  ter  Colb'ry  ter  see  the  show."  He  hesi- 
tated, then  spoke  plainly  and  to  the  point.  "  I 
don't  want  no  man  along  o'  me  that  the  sher'ff  air 
lookin'  fur."    He  paused  expectant  of  reassurance. 

"  I  knows  that,"  Eugene  Binley  answered  with 
a  lowering  brow. 

Shadrach  Pinnott  expected  him  to  say  more.  His 
face,  with  the  pallor  that  is  the  concomitant  of 
red  hair,  bleached  yet  more  by  his  indoor  occupa- 
tion, was  turned  with  ghastly  effect  toward  the 
young  man  who  still  stood  with  the  girl  beside  the 
column.  The  moonshiner's  eyebrows  were  insist- 
ently raised;  his  eyes  had  a  pointed  interrogation; 
his  lips  had  fallen  apart  in  the  stress  of  immediate 
anticipation,  his  mouth  showing  like  a  dark  hollow 
in  the  midst  of  his  great  red  beard.  The  pause 
continued  unbroken. 

The  sound  of  gentle  purling  was  distinct  in  the 
silence.  The  dripping  of  the  ardent  spirits  from 
the  worm  was  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
ripple  of  the  rill  of  water  in  the  troughs  led  down 

76 


The  Windfall 

from  one  of  the  subterranean  springs  to  its  mission 
of  utility  in  the  condenser  and  the  big  burly  mash 
tubs,  or  the  occasional  irregular  trickling  from  the 
roof  of  the  drops  with  their  solution  of  lime 
charged  with  the  building  of  the  fantastic  archi- 
tecture of  the  cavern. 

"  The  sher'ff  hain't  got  no  call  ter  meddle  with 
moonshine,"  Shadrach  Pinnott  was  forced  to  re- 
sume at  length.  "  But  ef  he  war  ter  hev  reason  ter 
s'arch  my  outfit  fur  law-breakers  agin  the  State 
he'd  find  the  liquor  an'  word  would  be  tuk  ter  the 
marshal." 

Eugene  had  his  own  sullen  grievances.  He  was 
still  a  free  agent,  but  at  that  moment  no  vague 
intention  of  sharing  the  moonshiners'  venture  into 
Colbury  had  entered  his  mind.  To  him  it  seemed 
like  putting  his  head  into  the  lion's  jaws.  He  had 
nevertheless  winced  from  the  perception  of  their 
carelessness  as  to  his  safety,  when  he  had  remon- 
strated against  the  risks  of  the  expedition  which 
might  rebound  upon  him,  and  almost  equally  from 
their  wanton  taunts.  Now  he  was  indisposed  to 
reassure  them  in  their  turn,  to  set  their  minds  at 
rest  as  to  the  dangers  which  his  presence  in  Col- 
bury might  bring  down  on  them.  He  said  naught, 
and  for  the  nonce  Shadrach  Pinnott  was  at  a 
loss. 

By  some  filial  intuition  Clotilda  divined  the 
emergency,  for  she  was  hardly  so  versed  in  the 
exigencies  of  the  hazardous  law-breaking  vocation 
as  to  appreciate  it  of  her  own  initiative. 

77 


The  Windfall 

"  I  dunno  whut  you  uns  mean  by  savin'  ye  would 
see  me  at  the  show,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Jes*  now  ye  war  tryin'  ter  torment  me  by  talkin' 
'bout  being  hid  out  like  a  wolf  or  su'thin'  wild." 

A  casual  conversation  was  in  progress  amongst 
the  group  beside  the  furnace.  Binley  lowered  his 
voice  to  the  key  of  her  own.  "  Do  that  torment 
you  uns,  Honey-sweet?  "  he  asked,  lured  anew. 

She  silently  cast  a  glance  of  reproach  at  him. 
Her  face  was  so  beautiful  with  this  expression  of 
upbraiding  protest — it  needed  but  this  touch  of 
sentiment  to  lift  it  into  the  grade  of  the  truly  ex- 
quisite. He  should  have  been  touched  by  the 
embellishment  which  a  thought  of  grief  for  him 
had  wrought  upon  it.  But  he  remembered  in  that 
moment  the  stranger's  admiration.  Doubtless  as 
she  looked  at  him  she  was  conscious  of  its  charm; 
she  gauged  its  power  upon  his  poor  unstable  melt- 
ing heart.  All  the  fascination  of  her  youthful 
loveliness  was  no  longer  a  sealed  book  to  her.  She 
had  been  apprised  of  its  worth  even  for  a  public 
performance.  She  was  now  exerting  it  con- 
sciously to  make  and  keep  him  subject,  not  to  her 
whim  alone,  but  to  bend  him  to  the  iron  rule  of 
the  crafty  Shadrach.  Eugene  Binley  loved  her 
after  his  fashion,  but  it  was  not  that  high,  sacri- 
ficial passion  that  annuls  self,  and  fosters  faith,  and 
blinds  sober  reason.  If,  as  he  suspected,  she 
loved  him  no  longer;  if  so  soon,  so  lightly  he  was 
supplanted  in  her  heart;  if  no  more  his  great  and 
troublous  trials  absorbed  her  pity  and  her  sym- 

78 


The  Windfall 

pathy,  the  consciousness  would  work  a  metamor- 
phosis in  his  sentiment.  His  tenderness  would  be 
replaced  by  revenge;  his  admiration  would  resolve 
itself  into  contumely;  his  mistaken  faith  would 
evolve  deceit.  Already  on  the  mere  suspicion  he 
was  meeting  craft  with  craft.  Her  upbraiding 
eyes  encountered  a  look  as  languishingly  adoring 
as  if  no  divination  of  her  motive  informed  it,  as 
if  this  restive,  alert,  exacting  creature  were  wholly 
and  hopelessly  her  own.  "  I  'lowed  I'd  see  you 
uns — I  never  said  nuthin'  ez  I  knows  on  'bout 
you  uns  seein'  me." 

He  pushed  his  hat  back  on  his  long,  chestnut 
hair  and  looked  down  at  her  with  his  large  brown 
eyes  luminously  watchful  as  if  to  minutely  descry 
the  effect  of  his  words. 

The  fascination  of  the  new  vista  opening  in 
her  restricted  life,  so  wide,  so  long,  so  variously 
flowered  to  one  who  knew  naught  heretofore  but 
the  woodpile  and  the  cow  pen  and  the  treadle  of 
the  loom,  filled  her  every  faculty.  She  longed  to 
be  still,  to  think;  she  could  scarcely  affect  interest 
in  the  distinction  he  made  in  his  speech — that  he 
should  see  her  but  she  should  not  see  him — she 
was  eager  to  have  the  preparations  for  the  sortie 
to  the  cove  fairly  under  way.  Nevertheless  with 
the  realisation  of  furthering  the  moonshiner's 
plans  she  kept  the  wily  fish  in  play. 

"  What  be  you  uns  talkin'  'bout?  I  reckon  I 
could  see  you  uns  ef  ye  could  see  me?  "  she  asked, 
pulling  at  the  strings  of  dark  red  beads  falling 

79 


The  Windfall 

down  over  the  bosom  of  her  light  blue  cotton 
gown. 

As  he  shook  his  head  to  and  fro  smiling  enig- 
matically she  was  so  weary  of  him  and  his  mys- 
teries that  the  listlessness  of  her  effort  at  interest 
could  not  be  kept  from  her  face,  and  might  in 
itself  have  intimated  her  state  of  mind  had  he  not 
already  suspected  it.  She  bent  her  face  downward 
as  if  to  escape  too  close  a  scrutiny  while  still, 
fixedly  smiling,  he  studied  its  contour. 

"  I  'lowed  ef  ye  went  off  an'  lef  me  'twould 
plumb  kill  me,  Puddin'-pie,"  he  averred. 

"  Oh,  shucks,"  she  exclaimed,  bending  her  head 
to  pleat  a  fold  of  her  gown  with  affected  em- 
barrassment. 

"An'  I  'lowed  I'd  follow  ye,  ef  I  war  dead, 
ez  I  would  of  choice  while  alive;  I'd  follow  ye — 
an'  though  ye  wouldn't  see  me  my  ghost  would  see 
you  uns." 

Her  fingers  were  suddenly  still;  she  looked  up 
at  him  with  a  sort  of  surprised  repulsion.  His 
smile  was  as  if  petrified  on  his  face. 

"Oh,  don't,"  she  cried  with  a  chilly  disgust. 
14  Ef  you  uns  war  dead  'twould  be  the  eend  of  all 
on  yearth  fur  you  uns." 

"  How  so? — thar  is  more  than  we  kin  see  right 
hyar  in  this  cave." 

He  took  a  sort  of  perverse  pleasure  in  her  start 
of  trepidation,  in  her  shuddering  doubtful  glance 
over  her  shoulder  down  the  dim  unexplored  re- 
cesses of  the  cavern.     The  furnace  door  was  open 

80 


The  Windfall 

now ;  the  fire  was  to  be  let  to  die  out,  preliminary  to 
the  stoppage  of  the  work  incident  on  the  trip  to 
Colbury.  The  beds  of  live  coals  cast  a  wide  suf- 
fusive  light  through  the  spacious,  lofty  hall  wherein 
they  stood;  the  troglodytic  group  of  distillers  still 
sat  by  the  dwindling  fire.  Through  several  of  the 
great  arches  she  could  see  other  vast  apartments, 
all  dimly  white  and  with  a  subdued  glister  in 
the  far-reaching  light.  Further  still  were  vague 
spaces,  shadowy  and  grey,  and  at  the  vanishing 
point  of  the  perspective  dusky  corridors  led  to 
densely  black  recesses,  harbouring  who  might 
know  what,  besides  bats  by  millions  and  night  birds 
that  crept  in  through  some  crevice  for  shelter  from 
the  glare  of  the  day.  Even  now  a  screech-owl  was 
beginning  to  send  forth  its  shrill  cry  ere  it  sought 
the  outer  air  and  the  dim  night,  and  the  keen,  quav- 
ering notes  of  ill-omen  roused  all  the  weird  sug- 
gestions of  the  echoes. 

"  You   needn't  be    afeared,    Honey-sweet,"    he 
said  absently,  "  Ye  won't  see  me,  but  I'll  see  you 


uns." 


There  was  a  pause  in  which  she  hardly  can- 
vassed what  to  say — so  doubtful,  so  ill  at  ease 
was  she. 

And  in  that  interval  a  strange  possibility  had 
revealed  itself  to  him  which  he  canvassed  swiftly 
with  flying  thoughts.  His  cheeks  glowed;  his  wild, 
restless  eyes  were  ablaze;  his  breath  was  quick;  he 
still  gazed  steadfastly  at  her  as  she  gazed  half 
affrighted  at  the   familiar  subterranean  environ- 

81 


The  Windfall 

fnent  dulling  gradually  as  the  coals  faded  and  the 
ash  gathered,  dulling  like  the  vanishing  scene  of 
a  dream.  He  hardly  saw  her;  his  every  faculty 
was  enlisted  in  a  new  theme.  It  was  only  me- 
chanically that  he  repeated  thickly,  slowly,  like  the 
ill-fashioned  words  of  a  somnambulist,  "  You  uns 
needn't  be  feared.  Ye  won't  see  me,  but  I'll  see 
you  uns." 


82 


CHAPTER   V 

WHEN  Hilary  Lloyd  in  a  flutter  of 
enthusiasm  detailed  to  his  partner  the 
fact  that  he  had  found  a  charming 
new  attraction  Haxon  lowered  indifferent.  He 
felt  that  the  show  was  already  good  enough  for 
all  reasonable  purposes. 

"  I  had  rather  hear  that  you  have  found  trans- 
portation," Haxon  said  sourly. 

"  It  may  help  to  the  same  thing,"  Lloyd  argued, 
bent  on  keeping  up  his  own  and  his  confrere's 
spirits.  "  It  may  draw  more  of  the  country  folks. 
There's  a  kind  of  interest  in  seein'  one's  own  sort 
perform — if  the  thing  is  well  done." 

As  Lloyd  went  about  the  square  the  next  day, 
alert,  ready,  seeming  so  capable,  so  entirely  at 
ease  mentally,  the  flagging  spirits  of  the  members 
of  the  company  were  recruited  by  his  cheerful 
presence,  and  their  secret  troublous  fears  of  a  des- 
perate stranding  in  this  out-of-the-way  corner  of 
the  world  were  exorcised. 

It  was  indeed  an  humble  cause  in  which  to  wage 
so  hard-fought  a  battle.  The  hopeless  courage, 
the  gallant  temper,  the  ingenious  expedients,  the 
hearty  strivings  might  have  graced  a  higher  plane 
of  achievement.  He  kept  his  smiling  face,  his 
quiet,    serene    manner,    his    courteous   suavity   to 

83 


The  Windfall 

strangers,  his  unruffled  placidity  with  his  em- 
ployees as  uninfluenced  as  if  he  did  not  behold  in 
the  immediate  future  the  ghastly  vision  of  the  com- 
plete collapse  and  rout  of  his  little  force,  over- 
whelmed by  a  pitiless  and  grotesque  fate.  It  was 
ever  with  him,  predominant  in  his  mind.  He 
could  not  even  look  at  the  boa  constrictor,  which 
he  loathed,  without  the  sardonic  reflection  how  the 
possession  of  the  reptile  would  embarrass  the 
holders  of  the  mortgage  which  their  earlier  dis- 
asters had  placed  on  all  the  portable  property  of 
the  show.  He  had  a  sensitively  organised  nature, 
and  it  was  a  positive  grief  to  him  that  Haxon  could 
not  meet  their  mutual  misfortunes  in  the  spirit  of 
good  comradeship.  Haxon  had  protested  that  he 
did  not  hold  his  partner  accountable  for  their 
beclouded  prospects  in  this  last  move;  nevertheless 
his  sullen  disaffection,  his  lowering  silence,  his  deep 
aversion  to  the  place  and  people,  his  despair  that 
he  could  formulate  no  plan  of  getting  away,  added 
a  thousand  fold  to  the  normal  difficulties  of  the 
situation,  bereft  Lloyd  of  advice  and  the  sense  of 
support,  and  magnified  his  fears  by  the  reflection 
of  another's.  Lloyd  was  but  a  strolling  showman, 
yet  he  braced  his  nerves  like  a  soldier  in  the  last 
charge  of  a  forlorn  hope.  All  smartly  groomed 
as  he  was,  he  lent  a  hand  to  every  need  that 
became  pressing  as  the  morning  wore  on  and  the 
preparations  for  opening  the  Fair  neared  com- 
pletion. He  whisked  a  brisk  brush  in  the  letter- 
ing of  an  unfinished  sign,  while  the  painter  who 

84 


The  Windfall 

was  one  of  the  clowns  in  a  pantomime  "  turn  " 
must  needs  run  to  paint  his  face.  He  wielded  a 
hammer  in  driving  down  a  tent-peg  which  the 
straining  of  the  wind  in  yesterday's  storm  had 
loosened  in  the  ground.  He  personally  super- 
vised the  unfurling  of  the  flag  and  eyed  it  with 
a  pose  of  glad  satisfaction  as  it  rose  to  the  tip  of 
the  tall  staff  and  floated  out  buoyantly  to  the  soft 
breeze.  He  called  the  bandmaster  to  account 
while  the  instruments  were  in  process  of  tuning, 
and  himself  made  sure  of  a  perfect  accord,  for  he 
had  a  fine  ear.  When  the  first  tones  of  the  blaring 
melody  issued  upon  the  air  as  the  military  figures 
with  their  brazen  instruments  and  tawdry  uniforms 
marched  out  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  square  no 
one  could  have  divined — as  he  stood  on  the  side- 
walk and  watched  the  pigmy  effort  at  pageant, — 
the  turmoil  of  emotion  in  his  heart,  his  racking 
pity  for  them,  for  all  the  employees,  for  himself 
and  his  partner;  his  keen  sense  of  responsibility 
that  cut  him  like  a  knife;  his  bruised  and  desperate 
hope;  his  trampled  and  abased  and  writhing 
pride;  his  awful  doubts  of  the  future — oh,  that 
the  veil  might  be  lifted  one  moment,  whatever  the 
Gorgon  face  revealed!  Now  and  again  he  heard 
his  name  spoken  as  a  magnate  and  celebrity,  and 
was  aware  that  he  was  pointed  out  by  the  denizens 
of  the  town  to  the  country  folk  who  had  waggoned 
in  to  see  the  show.  Certain  of  the  citizens,  who  had 
affected  to  think  slightingly  of  him  and  his  enter- 
prise, were  not  above  sharing  the  prestige  of  his 

85 


The  Windfall 

notoriety,  and  the  distinction  conferred  by  his 
acquaintance  in  the  estimation  of  these  rural 
wights. 

These  spectators  were  few,  however,  chiefly 
heavy,  jeans-clad  worthies  with  their  sunbonneted 
helpmeets,  and  leading  by  the  hand  a  goodly  dele- 
gation of  tow-headed  olive  branches.  They  all 
seemed  disposed  to  circle,  inquisitively  staring, 
about  the  tents;  not  one  had  yet  passed  a  ticket- 
seller's  wicket.  The  very  signs  were  alluring  to 
their  unaccustomed  eyes — the  picture  of  the  boa 
constrictor  had  a  horrifying  fascination  to  a  fam- 
ily group  who  had  brought  up  motionless  in  front 
of  it,  the  paterfamilias,  chin-whiskered,  loose- 
jointed,  his  jaws  slowly  working  on  his  quid  of 
tobacco,  his  shoulders  bent,  shortening  the  set  of 
his  brown  coat  in  the  back,  his  knees  crooked, 
drawing  the  trousers  to  a  generous  display  of 
wrinkled,  blue  yarn  socks,  a  child  of  two  years 
poised  on  his  elbow,  an  elder  one  holding  to  his 
hand,  two  more  clinging  to  his  coat  tails  and  the 
last  acquisition,  an  infant,  in  its  mother's  arms. 

"  M'ria,  M'ria,"  the  man  exclaimed  wildly,  "  do 
you  uns  reckon  fur  sure  that  thar  sarpient,  whut's 
pictured  thar,  air  actially  inside  that  tent?  " 

His  wife  shifted  her  snuff-brush  in  her  mouth 
to  permit  enunciation.  "  I  hope  ter  the  powers 
they  hev  got  him  tied,"  she  rejoined. 

Had  the  worthy  couple  monopolised  the  inter- 
est of  speculation  they  might  have  remained 
indefinitely  spellbound,  exchanging  sapient  conjec- 

86 


The  Windfall 

tures  concerning  the  snake,  but  one  of  the  children 
piped  up  suddenly  with  that  juvenile  proclivity  for 
the  unanswerable.  "  What  be  his  name,  dad?" 
and  the  rest  instantly  chorused — "  What  be  his 
name?  " 

"  Dunno — the  pictur'  don't  say,"  the  man  re- 
plied slowly. 

This  omission  might  seem  a  fatal  oversight  on 
the  part  of  the  managers,  but  the  show  had  jour- 
neyed half  over  the  continent  with  no  sense  of 
aught  lacking  until  a  juvenile  patron  from  Persim- 
mon Cove  pounced  upon  the  void  and  would  not 
be  denied. 

"  What  be  his  name?"  he  cried  in  the  pangs 
of  desperate  curiosity,  and  the  others  demanded 
in  shrill  unison — "What  be  his  name?  What  be 
his  name?  " 

"  Dunno — let's  go  in,  M'ria,  an'  ax  his  name," 
the  head  of  the  family  suggested  with  a  frenzied 
gleam  of  temerity  in  his  eyes,  and,  as  the  spieler 
at  the  door  saw  them  approach,  he  lifted  his  horn 
and  began  to  shrill,  "  Here's  Isaac.  Come  in,  come 
in.  He  eats  'em — he  eats  'em  alive,"  so  close 
on  the  heels  of  the  plump  infant  delegation,  that 
it  might  have  suggested  cannibalistic  tendencies  to 
those  uninitiated  in  the  ways  of  street  fairs. 

The  band,  having  finished  its  tour  of  the  square, 
changed  the  march  to  a  potpourri  of  popular  airs, 
and  then  ensued  an  interval  weighted  with  silence 
after  the  surcharge  of  sound,  when  the  people 
began  to  gather  expectantly  along  the  sidewalks; 

87 


The  Windfall 

the  merchants  and  clerks  left  their  wares,  and 
stood  in  doorways  or  clustered  at  gaze  in  second- 
story  windows;  the  porches  and  casements  of  the 
courthouse  were  crowded  with  feminine  faces  and 
pretty  attire,  the  society  element  of  Colbury  having 
gathered  to  this  point  of  vantage  from  the  remoter 
residence  portion  of  the  town.  All  the  air  was 
a-tingle  with  a  nervous  sense  of  expectation. 

Lloyd,  the  victim  of  suspense,  stood  on  the  side- 
walk in  front  of  the  principal  store.  Now  and 
then  he  took  off  his  brown  straw  hat  and  fanned 
with  it,  his  light-brown  hair  shining  in  the  sun. 
The  pink  flush  in  his  cheek  had  deepened ;  his  long 
dark  eyelashes  occasionally  rose  and  fell  with  a 
nervous  quiver,  but  otherwise  naught  betokened 
the  stress  of  excitement  with  which  he  laboured. 
He  did  not  notice  that  he  had  become  a  mark  for 
the  gaze  of  the  village  belles  on  the  courthouse 
balcony — so  handsome  a  man  necessarily  attracted 
attention,  and  the  special  smartness  of  the  cut  of 
his  fawn-tinted  suit,  his  russet  brown  shoes,  the 
brown  four-in-hand  tie,  and  a  pink  wild  aster  in 
his  buttonhole  differentiated  him  from  the  jeans- 
clad  rural  visitors,  from  the  clerks  of  Colbury, 
and  the  sedate,  black-coated,  elderly  merchants. 
The  sunlight  had  that  singularly  burnished  rich- 
ness characteristic  of  the  last  days  of  summer;  a 
yearning  languor  of  dreams ;  a  longing  for  repose. 
A  sense  of  impending  rest  was  in  the  atmosphere. 
The  shadows  were  sharp  and  clearly  defined. 
Far  away  he  could  see  the  blue  mountains  quiver 

88 


The  Windfall 

through  the  heated  air.  Nearer  at  hand  they 
were  purple  and  bronze  and  deeply  green,  with 
here  and  there  on  their  slopes  the  sombre  shadow 
of  a  dazzlingly  white  cloud,  floating  high  in  the 
sky.  He  marked  how  radiant  was  the  fact,  how 
dark  and  gruesome  the  similitude  to  the  eye 
looking  only  to  the  earth,  and  he  was  vaguely 
aware  of  dispensations  in  life  that  this  resembled. 
The  landscape  was  cleft  in  twain  by  the  glittering 
line  of  the  river,  held  in  deep-channelled,  clifty 
banks,  and  the  circumference  of  the  Ferris  Wheel 
framed  the  whole,  seen  through  its  great  circle. 

Hardly  a  movement  disturbed  the  eager  expect- 
ancy of  the  crowd  gathered  in  the  square;  the 
cries  of  the  spielers  were  hushed;  the  peanut 
roasters,  the  candy-stands  had  ceased  to  vend  their 
wares;  the  groups  attracted  by  the  pictures  of  the 
freaks  no  longer  stood  to  stare;  the  merry-go- 
round  was  still — all  waited  in  blank  patience  the 
great  sensation  of  the  day.  When  the  band, 
grouped  about  the  tall  mast  near  the  centre  of  the 
place,  burst  forth  suddenly  with  the  first  sonorous 
measures  of  an  inspiring  melody  there  was  a  gal- 
vanic thrill  as  of  panic  or  turmoil  throughout  the 
press.  A  young  mule  that  was  new  to  town  and 
town  ways,  hitched  to  the  courthouse  fence,  had 
borne  much  exacerbation  of  nerves  that  morning 
in  sights  hitherto  undreamed  of,  in  sounds  terrify- 
ing and  unexplained;  he  found  in  this  blare  of 
trumpets  under  his  confiding  nose  the  extremest 
limits  of  his  endurance.    He  gave  one  tremendous 

89 


The  Windfall 

bound,  burst  his  halter,  scattered  the  meeker  pal- 
freys about  him,  that  snorted  in  scandalised  dis- 
may at  his  conduct,  and  struggled  only  to  get  out 
of  his  way,  as  he  galloped  through  the  crowds  and 
across  the  square,  knocking  down  several  men  as 
he  passed,  and  set  out  at  a  breakneck  speed  on  the 
road  to  the  mountains.  His  owner  gazed  discon- 
solately after  him,  while  the  half-affrighted  crowd 
recovered  its  composure  in  a  guffaw  at  his  expense; 
then,  as  he  muttered  philosophically,  "  Waal,  at 
that  gait  he'll  soon  be  home,"  he  addressed  him- 
self anew  to  the  waiting  expectancy,  regardless  of 
the  problem  of  transportation  which  his  own  dis- 
mounted condition  presented. 

The  band,  disregarding  the  commotion,  still 
flung  forth  its  brazen  blare  of  melody,  and  sud- 
denly a  presence  threaded  the  crowd,  which  every 
neck  was  craned  to  view.  A  man,  bare-headed  in 
the  sun,  clad  showily  in  pink  satin,  slashed  with 
dark  red,  and  pink  silk  tights,  with  the  deft  tread 
of  one  shod  elastically,  was  passing  through  the 
press.  Only  once  Lloyd  had  a  glimpse  of  the  fig- 
ure long  familiar  to  him,  though  to  have  seen 
Haxon  only  in  street  clothes  one  could  never  have 
recognised  Captain  Ollory  of  the  Royal  Navy.  As 
he  began  to  climb  the  mast,  stepping  lightly, 
swiftly,  surely,  from  one  steel  spike  to  another,  he 
became  visible  to  the  whole  assemblage,  and,  un- 
used to  the  accepted  methods  of  applause,  a  cry 
of  gratulation  that  was  half  a  guffaw  of  delight 
broke  forth.    The  acrobat,  without  the  immediate 

90 


The  Windfall 

contrast  with  taller  men,  seemed  of  fair  height, 
and  the  muscle  that  was  suggestive  of  undue 
stoutness  in  his  ordinary  garb,  showed  now  in  full 
play  and  athletic  symmetry  in  the  thin,  elastic 
silk  covering  of  limbs  and  arms.  He  went  speedily 
to  the  top,  and  stepped  with  a  deft  lightness  upon 
the  board  that  surmounted  it,  a  pitiful  square,  not 
more  than  eighteen  inches  in  compass.  He  stood 
for  a  moment  at  full  height  above  the  quivering 
and  astonished  crowd — higher  than  the  tip  of  the 
Ferris  wheel,  higher  than  the  courthouse  tower. 
The  band,  playing  resolutely  on,  smote  keenly 
vibrant  nerves  with  a  sense  of  discordance.  One 
of  the  amazed  rural  spectators,  agonised  with  the 
strain  of  the  sensation,  called  out  sharply,  "  Hi, 
somebody,  can't  ye  make  them  dad-burned  hawns 
an'  accordions  quit  blating?  " 

Lloyd  glanced  keenly  about,  but  the  voice  could 
not  be  located  in  the  crowd.  He  deprecated  aught 
that  might  tend  to  shake  Haxon's  nerve,  aught 
unexpected,  disagreeable,  jarring  in  the  stress  of 
the  crisis.  He  knew  how  far  removed  from  the 
actualities  was  the  gallant  aspect  of  that  richly- 
bedight  figure,  the  bonhomie  of  the  smile  and 
flourish  of  salutation  from  the  frightful  perch  to 
the  humming  crowd  below.  He  knew  that  the 
realisation  of  risking  life  and  limb  for  a  meagre 
stipend  that  meant  bare  subsistence  was  daunting 
enough  to  the  bravest,  but  to  court  this  jeopardy 
for  naught,  for  the  amusement  of  a  scanty  cluster 
of  country  bumpkins,  was  revolting  to  any  sane 

91 


The  Windfall 

man.  He  remembered  anew  the  cynical  saying 
that  the  spectators  gather  to  see  the  acrobat  killed, 
not  to  witness  his  triumph,  and  then  came  back  to 
him  Haxon's  sullen  complaint  this  morning  that 
his  "  turn  "  was  absolutely  without  compensation 
— he  was  convinced  that  not  one-third  of  the  rural 
crowd  would  pay  their  way  into  a  tent.  The  ex- 
ternal aspects  and  the  "  high  dive,"  necessarily 
an  outdoor  performance  and  a  free  show,  would 
satisfy  their  curiosity,  without  enriching  the  ex- 
chequer of  the  street  fair  company.  This  state  of 
mind  was  a  poor  preparation  for  Haxon's  difficult 
feat,  for  it  was  indeed  extra-hazardous,  and  in 
several  towns  in  which  they  had  exhibited  its  repe- 
tition had  been  forbidden  by  the  authorities. 

Lloyd  was  made  aware  by  the  shudder,  the  sibi- 
lance  of  the  shivering  crowd  that  the  acrobat  had 
moved,  and  he  glanced  up  wincingly  from  under 
his  hat-brim.  Haxon  had  stooped;  he  was  now 
in  a  sitting  posture,  his  feet  dangling  over  the 
depths  below,  and  the  little  flat  square  of  wood 
supporting  his  weight.  He  slowly  drew  from  a 
pocket  a  large  handkerchief,  deliberately  folded  it, 
and  bound  it  around  his  eyes,  tying  it  hard  and 
fast  at  the  back  of  his  head.  Then,  thus  blind- 
folded, he  sat  on  his  precarious  perch  for  a  mo- 
ment, dangling  his  shapely,  muscular  legs  in  their 
pink  silk  tights.  As  he  started  to  rise  from  his 
posture,  a  feminine  voice  from  the  balcony  of  the 
courthouse  cried  out  hysterically:  "  Oh,  make  him 
come    down — don't    let    him    be    blindfolded ! " 

92 


The  Windfall 

and  there  ensued  a  twitter  of  derision  and  admo- 
nition among  her  companions,  with  gay  raillery 
that  she  should  show  herself  so  "  very  green." 

As  Lloyd  glanced  back  at  the  acrobat,  he  saw 
that  what  Haxon  called  the  business  of  the  "  turn  " 
was  in  progress,  and,  familiar  with  it  though  he 
was,  affected,  as  he  knew  it  to  be,  the  sight  of  it 
made  him  wince  now  and  sent  cold  thrills  of  ter- 
ror down  his  spine.  The  acrobat,  clumsily,  uncer- 
tainly, with  all  the  hesitant  motions  of  the  blind, 
slowly  sought  to  rise,  to  get  his  feet  once  more  on 
the  square  board  on  which  he  now  sat.  He  lifted 
the  ball  of  one  heel  to  the  verge,  and  sat  there 
thus  crouched  in  dubitation;  then  slowly,  quak- 
ingly  he  achieved  a  stooping  attitude  and  at  last 
rose  unsteadily  to  his  feet,  gropingly  holding  out 
his  hands,  now  this  way,  now  that,  as  if  he  were 
doubtful  on  which  side  of  the  mast  was  the  reser- 
voir of  water  below.  There  was  no  need  of  these 
feints  to  heighten  the  temerity  of  the  feat,  and 
Lloyd  had  always  deprecated  them.  The  realism 
of  this  affectation  of  fright,  of  uncertainty,  of 
hesitation,  was  so  great  that  its  quiver  seemed 
possible  to  be  communicated  to  the  nerves  in 
serious  earnest. 

Suddenly  the  acrobat  drew  himself  to  his 
wonted  erectness.  He  stood,  for  a  moment,  mo- 
tionless. Then  he  leaped,  or  rather  stepped  out 
into  the  air,  still  conserving  a  standing  posture; 
he  turned  on  his  back  in  the  instant  of  descending, 
and,  with  an  incredible  precision  of  aim,  fell  into 

93 


The  Windfall 

the  centre  of  the  tank  of  water,  the  impact  send- 
ing up  jets  in  every  direction  and  spattering  the 
cheering  crowd. 

All  was  laughter  and  good-humour.  As  the 
round  sleek  head  and  the  pink  doublet,  slashed 
with  red,  reappeared  clambering  over  the  sides  of 
the  reservoir  half  a  dozen  brawny  arms  were 
stretched  forth  to  help  the  acrobat  out.  But  he 
sprang  lightly  past,  dripping  like  a  seal,  caught  a 
water-proof  overcoat  from  an  attendant's  hands, 
slipped  it  on,  and  walking  with  that  peculiar  deft- 
ness appertaining  to  light,  elastic  chaussure,  his 
calves  and  ankles  in  their  pink  tights  presenting 
a  comical  contrast  to  the  overcoat  as  his  feet  pro- 
truded below,  he  took  his  way  through  the  crowd, 
along  the  pavement,  and  in  the  direction  of  the 
village  hotel. 

Lloyd  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief.  This  was 
well  enough  so  far — but  he  had  an  awful  premoni- 
tion that  for  some  reason  some  day  Haxon's  nerve 
would  fail  him.  That  accurate  judgment  of  dis- 
tances would  prove  at  fault.  He  would  miss  his 
calculation  by  some  inconsiderable  fraction,  and 
instead  of  dropping  on  the  elastic  surface  of  the 
buoyant  water  he  would  fall  on  the  edge  of  the 
tank,  on  his  back  and  break  it,  or  on  his  skull  and 
crush  it.  This  was  a  life  to  lead,  Lloyd  said  to 
himself,  a  life  to  lead,  but  God  be  thanked  its 
chief  trial  was  over  for  the  day  at  all  events.  His 
consciousness  was  sore  and  bruised.  He  tried  to 
pluck   up    heart   of    grace.     The   sound   of   the 

94 


The  Windfall 

spielers'  cries  affected  him  like  the  commonplace 
consolations  of  awakening  at  the  end  of  a  dreadful 
dream.  When  he  went  down  to  the  reservoir  he 
found  the  groups  near  it  discussing  the  narrow 
margin  between  success  and  a  heart-rending 
disaster. 

"  Ef  he  hed  jes'  curved  a  mite  to  the  right  or 
the  lef  his  spine  would  hev  been  splinters,"  one 
voiced  the  opinion  of  all. 

Lloyd  was  ordering  some  heavy  planks  to  be 
laid  across  the  huge  trough,  the  water  being  some 
eight  feet  deep. 

"  Whut's  that  fur?"  a  surly  wight  demanded, 
being  compelled  to  give  place  for  the  proceeding. 

"  Some  of  these  underfoot  children  might  come 
here  when  nobody  is  looking  and  drown  them- 
selves." 

The  man  looked  at  him  with  a  clearing  brow. 
"  Fur  sech  resky  folks  ez  ye  'pear  ter  be  ye  air 
toler'ble  fore-thoughted,"  he  said  approvingly. 

Taking  his  way  back  to  the  sidewalk  Lloyd  was 
accosted  by  an  elderly  merchant.  "  The  best  of 
your  show  seems  to  be  free,"  he  said  sourly.  He 
had  earlier  taken  occasion  to  gird  at  the  fair;  it 
was  a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help  to  trade;  it 
was  a  novelty,  a  noisy  intrusion,  a  foolish  enter- 
prise, a  predestined  failure,  and  he  could  make  no 
compact  of  toleration  with  it.  "  You  ought  to 
remember  that  thanks  are  not  profits." 

"  They  have  no  market  value,  but  they  are 
mighty  pleasant,"  returned  Lloyd. 

95, 


The  Windfall 

"  This  ain't  a  paying  crowd,"  the  merchant  cast 
his  eye  disparagingly  about.  "  If  business  don't 
improve  you  and  your  company  won't  more  than 
make  your  keep  here."  He  seemed  bent  on 
"  rubbing  it  in." 

"  We  would  be  glad  to  do  that,"  said  Lloyd 
in  excellent  temper.  "  We  thought  it  was  a  big- 
ger town — what  there  is  of  it  seems  to  be  dandy, 
— and  we  thought  there  would  be  a  more  populous 
vicinity.  But  because  we  have  made  a  mistake 
there  is  no  use  in  sitting  down  with  our  finger  in 
our  mouth.  We  are  going  to  give  every  attrac- 
tion straight  along  just  as  if  we  were  playing  to 
big  money." 

The  sour  old  man  looked  hard  at  the  man- 
ager; he  would  fain  maintain  his  caustic  admoni- 
tions, his  disparaging  criticism.  He  hated  folly 
in  all  its  forms;  but  commercially  he  felt  it  to  be 
wicked.  A  man  who  wasted  money,  or  fooled  it 
away,  he  deemed  a  criminal,  albeit  not  liable  to 
the  law.  Nevertheless  he  was  mollified  in  spite 
of  himself. 

"  Gray,"  he  said  to  his  head  clerk,  "  put  up  the 
shutters.  All  the  clerks  may  go  to  the  fair — 
and  the  porter,  too — pay  his  way.  We  can't  do 
business  with  this  tom-fool  street  fair  gyrating 
before  the  door,  and  we  don't  want  all  these  hill- 
billies standing  around  the  counters  squirting  to- 
bacco juice  all  over  the  stock,  between  the  times 
that  they  go  out  to  stare-gaze  the  pictures  on  the 
signs.     /  won't  house  'em.     If  they  want  to  see 

96 


The  Windfall 

the  fair  let  'em  drop  their  nickel  in  the  slot,  and 
get  the  worth  of  their  money." 

The  closing  of  this,  the  principal  store  in  the 
town,  was  followed  by  the  placing  of  other  shut- 
ters in  show  windows  and  the  fastening  of  doors. 
The  chaffering  at  the  counters  thus  ceasing,  the 
idlers  were  turned  into  the  street,  and  here  the 
wiles  of  the  spielers  caught  them,  and  soon  the 
ticket  takers  were  busy  making  change.  The  tent 
of  "Isaac"  was  thronged;  it  is  amazing  the  fas- 
cination that  the  repulsive  exerts  on-  the  unculti- 
vated mind.  Old  and  young,  men,  women,  and 
children,  yearned  with  curiosity  to  see  him  "  eat 
'em  alive,"  and  a  steady  procession  went  in  and 
came  out  in  various  stages  of  gratified  disgust. 
When  it  was  announced  that  the  boa  constrictor 
would  be  fed  on  chickens  there  was  a  rush  for 
the  horrid  spectacle,  and  for  a  time  the  peanut 
roaster  and  candy  stand  were  dreary  and  deserted. 
Wick-Zoo,  the  wild  man,  who  was  caged,  half  clad 
in  skins,  a  repellent  object  of  matted  hair,  and 
long  teeth,  and  wild  eyes,  who  ran  a  few  steps 
hither  and  thither  in  the  restricted  limits  of  his 
bars,  uttering  low  moans  varied  now  again  by  a 
keen,  shrill  howl,  was  overwhelmed  with  visitors 
until  an  unlucky  episode  created  a  panic  amongst 
them.  A  mountain  woman,  young,  plump,  black- 
eyed,  and  with  bright  rosy  cheeks  hardly  dis- 
counted by  her  pink-checked  cotton  gown,  put  a 
white  dimpled  hand  inadvertently  within  the  bars 
as  she  held  on  to  the  cage  to  avoid  the  jostling  of 

97 


The  Windfall 

the  crowd.  It  seemed  unto  Wick-Zoo  good  and 
meet  to  make  a  demonstration  toward  the  tempt- 
ing member,  and  he  rubbed  his  muzzle  against 
it  with  a  jocosity  hardly  to  be  expected  of  a  "  wild 
man  from  Borneo."  He  was  of  limited  mental 
endowment,  as  was  natural,  and  had  no  prescience 
of  the  awful  uproar  that  ensued  when  the  woman 
screamed  that  he  was  snapping  his  terrible  teeth 
at  her,  and  as  she  fell  back  upon  the  crowd  the 
tent  of  Wick-Zoo  was  nearly  torn  down  upon  his 
devoted  head  before  his  admirers  could  fairly  ex- 
tricate themselves.  Lloyd,  hearing  the  clamour, 
came  hastily  to  the  rescue,  and  as  he  entered  the 
deserted  precincts  the  poor  "  wild  man  "  hailed 
him: 

"  Oh,  Beaut,  for  the  love  of  pity  can't  you 
gimme  a  beer?    I'm  nigh  smothered  with  thirst." 

The  happy  turn  of  the  tide,  the  eager  desire  to 
make  the  best  of  every  advantage,  the  prudent 
monition  that  one  day  is  not  a  week  and  that  the 
show  must  live  up  to  its  best  possibilities,  kept 
Hilary  Lloyd  a  very  busy  man  that  morning. 

The  first  check  to  his  hopes  came  when  he  en- 
countered Clotilda  Pinnott,  arrived  with  all  her 
kith  and  kin  in  a  big  white-covered  ox-waggon, 
to  redeem  her  promise  to  do  a  song-and-dance 
"  turn  "  at  the  Fair. 


9.8 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  manager  did  not  at  first  recognise 
the  new  star  that  had  arisen  in  the  firma- 
ment of  the  Street  Fair,  and  this  was  no 
great  wonder.  Clotilda  Pinnott  was  standing  quite 
isolated  near  the  intersection  of  one  of  the  streets 
with  the  public  square.  Near  her  was  the  great 
waggon  which  had  been  thriftily  utilised  to  take 
advantage  of  the  excursion,  laden  with  an  immense 
number  of  fresh  splint  baskets  presumably  for 
sale;  some  were  hanging  all  along  the  sides;  others 
protruded  from  the  white  hood  at  the  back;  still 
larger  ones  were  glimpsed  through  the  aperture  of 
the  front.  One  of  the  team  of  red-and-white  oxen 
was  yet  afoot,  steadily  chewing  his  cud;  the  other, 
unmindful  of  the  diagonal  tilt  of  the  yoke  which 
he  had  thus  pulled  awry,  had  lain  down  on  the 
ground  and  sleepily  eyed  the  square,  with  no  ap- 
parent perception  in  his  dull  bovine  mind  that  its 
aspect  was  more  populous  and  animated  than  he 
had  beheld  it  of  yore. 

Some  half  dozen  of  the  dogs  had  seen  fit  to 
accompany  this  jaunting  abroad  of  the  family, 
and  naturally  had  furnished  their  own  transporta- 
tion. The  pace  at  which  the  ox-team  had  travelled 
had  by  no  means  taxed  their  brisk  energies,  but 
the  day  was  nearing  the  noon-tide,  the  September 

99 


The  Windfall 

sun  was  hot,  and  they  too  had  seated  themselves, 
several  under  the  shade  of  the  waggon,  and  thence 
with  lolling  tongues  and  small  hot  eyes  they  gazed 
at  the  commotion,  their  intentness  of  observation 
broken  now  and  then  by  sudden  snaps  at  flies,  and 
once  one,  with  an  air  of  indignant  interruption, 
dislocated  every  rule  of  canine  symmetry  in  the 
twist  he  gave  his  anatomy  to  get  his  teeth  to  bear 
on  the  fleas  that  tormented  him.  Two  evidently 
had  some  joke  between  them,  for  without  warning 
they  occasionally  rushed  jocosely  at  each  other,  the 
bigger  rolling  the  smaller  over  and  over  and  tick- 
ling and  biting  him,  humorously  growling  the 
while,  till  he  whimpered  hysterically  aloud. 

But  the  girl — Lloyd  saw  recognition  in  her  eyes 
which  fixed  his  attention;  then  he  paused  to  stare 
wonderingly.  "  Why,  what  on  earth  have  you 
done  to  yourself?"  he  broke  out  in  blunt  amaze- 
ment. 

Ah,  never,  never  could  he  have  recognised  the 
classic  grape-laden  canephora  of  the  orchard  in 
the  figure  that  stood  before  him.  Here,  here  was 
true  rusticity — the  other  a  dream,  a  poem,  some 
materialised  strain  from  the  oaten  reed  of  Theoc- 
ritus. He  had  spoken  to  her  then  with  the  defer- 
ence that  befitted  the  personified  poetry  of  her 
presence.  He  now  was  not  intentionally  rude,  but 
he  was  stern,  plain,  determined.  The  artistic  in- 
terests of  the  promised  "  turn  "  were  slaughtered. 

"  How  'd  ever  you  make  yourself  such  a  jay?  " 
he  cried  in  dismay. 

ioo 


The  Windfall, 

Then  he  began  to  perceive  in  added  surprise 
that  she  fancied  herself  arrayed  to  strike  the  be- 
holder with  admiration  and  destroy  the  peace  of 
every  man  who  looked  upon  her.  She  stared  at 
him  with  an  amazement  that  matched  his  own,  so 
comprehensive  that  at  first  it  gave  no  room  for 
anger.  As  the  gradual  realisation  of  objection  be- 
gan to  redden  her  cheeks  he  made  haste  to  call 
some  good-natured  euphemism  to  his  aid,  for  he 
would  not  willingly  hurt  her  feelings. 

"  Don't  you  know,  child,  that  '  beauty  un- 
adorned is  adorned  the  most '?  "  he  said.  "  Why 
didn't  you  wear  those  togs  you  had  on  when  I  saw 
you  up  in  the  mountains?  " 

"  Them  r-a-ags?  "  she  drawled  contemptuously, 
and  with  a  complacent  hand  she  adjusted  the  folds 
of  her  coarse  brown  and  green  mottled  muslin, 
that  had  at  intervals  a  small  egg-shaped  pattern 
in  glaring  white.  It  stood  out  from  her  heels  like 
a  board,  so  stiffly  was  it  starched.  A  row  of  big 
black  beads  was  around  her  throat.  A  yellow  sun- 
bonnet,  lined  with  blue,  hid  all  the  grace  of  her 
head  and  hair  and  showed  only  a  moon-like  con- 
tour of  face,  and  he  wondered  that  he  had  not 
before  noticed  her  freckles.  And  then,  worst  of 
all,  her  shoes.  For  now  her  feet  were  encased  in 
thick  red  yarn  stockings  and  the  stiffest  of  brogans, 
several  sizes  too  large. 

Lloyd  could  scarcely  stem  the  flood  of  despair 
that  surged  about  him,  and  the  struggle  was  the 
more  desperate  as  he  perceived  how  far  afield  was 

IOI 


The  Windfall 

her  complacent  mental  attitude  from  any  con- 
straint of  comprehension.  Could  he  ever  make 
her  understand? 

"  You  can't  dance  in  them  soap-boxes,"  he  said 
didactically.  "  Them  shoes  won't  bend.  You 
can't  do  nothing  but  hop — and  no  bloke  is  going 
to  pay  a  red  to  see  a  lydy  hop.  Why  didn't  you 
wear  the  old  slippers  you  had  on  the  other 
day?" 

"  Was  you  uns  thinkin'  ez  I'd  'pear  so  pore  ez 
ter  dance  in  them  old  shoes?  "  she  demanded  with 
a  flash  of  the  eyes  and  drawing  up  her  figure  with 
dignity,  but  alack,  a  flash,  however  fiery,  from  out 
the  blue  and  yellow  frills  of  the  sunbonnet,  and  the 
prideful  pose  of  a  form  disguised  by  the  angular 
folds  of  the  unyielding  fabric  that  held  the  starch 
so  stiffly,  lost  all  impressiveness  in  their  disastrous 
environment. 

"  I  was  thinking  that  same,"  he  retorted  un- 
equivocally. He  turned  to  her  eldest  brother,  who 
had  just  come  up,  followed  at  a  little  distance  by 
her  staring  father,  and  sought  to  reach  here  more 
pliancy  of  receptivity.  "  Well,  sport,"  he  said 
genially  to  Daniel  Pinnott,  "  you  see  I  wanted  to 
show  a  nymph  of  the  orchard — such  as  dance 
among  the  trees." 

The  jaws  of  both  mountaineers  fell.  "  When 
did  they  dance,  stranger?"  they  uneasily  de- 
manded in  a  breath,  as  if  the  mere  idea  of  terpsi- 
chorean  intrusion  among  their  trees  had  an  in- 
herent disquietude  for  them. 

102 


The  Windfall 

"  Oh,  there's  no  such  folks  sure  enough/'  Lloyd 
made  haste  to  explain.  "  People  have  pretended 
that  there  were  spirits  of  the  trees  and  the  like." 
He  hesitated;  Shadrach  Pinnott's  eyes  fixed  in 
stultified  wonderment  on  his  face  were  disconcert- 
ing. "  Of  course  nobody  ever  saw  them,  unless 
the  feller  was  dreamin'  or  drunk; " — at  the  last 
word  Shadrach  Pinnott's  countenance  took  on  the 
insignia  of  comprehension — "  anyhow,  the  book- 
guys  have  wrritten  a  lot  of  poetry  about  'em,  and 
the  artist-guys  have  painted  pictures  of  what  they 
thought  these  lydies  looked  like;  so  when  I  saw 
Miss  here,  dancing  and  singing  in  the  orchard, 
she  took  my  eye  for  a  dryad,  or  oread  or  a  bac- 
chante or  some  of  them  nationalities,  and  I'd  like 
to  try  the  turn  on  the  public — but — "  he  con- 
cluded sternly,  "  not  in  them  clothes — that's  just 
an  everyday  Persimmon  Cove  girl,  and  no  dryad 
about  it." 

Clotilda  made  no  sign  of  relenting,  and  Lloyd 
stared  disconsolately  at  her  while  the  slow  brains 
of  the  two  other  men  turned  over  his  discourse 
reflectively.  "  The  right  kind  of  glad  rags  for 
dancing  are  never  stiff,"  he  urged.  "  I  can't  figure 
out  how  the  lydy  managed  to  stay  so  stiff  and 
starched  these  seven  miles  and  more,  waggoning 
down  from  the  mountain.  She  looks  to  be  just  off 
the  ironing-board." 

"  An'  stranger,  she  be"  the  old  grandam's  voice 
broke  in  suddenly  as  she  hobbled  up  on  her  stick. 
"  Clotildy  changed  into  them  clothes,  under  the 

103 


The  Windfall 

kiver  of  the  waggin,  whenst  we  uns  war  about  half 
a  mile  from  town." 

Lloyd  made  a  bolt  toward  the  canvas-covered 
vehicle.  "  And  she  has  got  the  same  togs  along?  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  Three  cheers !  Three  cheers ! 
Get  'em  out, — get  'em  out.  And  child,  take  off 
your  cap  or  bonnet  or  whatever  that  disguise  is 
called — blazes,  girl!  what  have  you  got  on  your 
hair?" 

Clotilda,  overborne  by  the  trend  of  events  and 
perceiving  very  definitely  that  the  opportunity  for 
display  was  lost  unless  she  surrendered  her  per- 
suasions as  to  toilette,  obediently  bared  her  head 
to  the  light,  the  locks  all  sleek  and  smooth  and 
closely  banded  to  her  forehead.  They  were 
streaked  dark  and  light  and  glistened  when  the 
sun  fell  upon  them.  She  lifted  her  hands  deprecat- 
ingly  to  her  head  as  he  vociferated,  "What  is  it 
that  you  have  got  on  your  hair?  " 

"  Nuthin'  but  lard,"  she  faltered. 

"  Oh, — oh — "  Lloyd  gave  a  sigh  of  despair. 
Then  didactically  he  rejoined:  "  A  lydy  who  per- 
forms in  public  must  be  more  natural  than — than 
— nature — or  seem  to  be, — which  is  all  the  same 
thing.  She  can  paint  her  cheeks,  which  yours 
don't  need — and  beautify  along  natural  lines — 
but  no  oread  that  I  ever  saw  billed  had  a  greased 
head.  I  take  it  that  this  ain't  the  style  among  the 
ones  in  the  mountains,  or  the  boards  would  have 
followed  the  fashion.  We  will  all  pray  that  a  cake 
of  tar  soap  and  a  pail  of  river  water  will  wash  that 

104 


The  Windfall 

grease  off.  I  understand  that  you  are  going  to 
camp  here  a  little  distance  from  town/'  he  added, 
turning  to  Shadrach  Pinnott,  and  as  the  moun- 
taineer assented,  he  continued,  "  Well,  she  can 
go  now  to  the  camping  ground  and  get  that  larded 
hair  washed,  and  sit  in  the  sun  till  it  dries  off, 
for,"  declared  this  disciple  of  realism  severely, 
"  no  oread,  nor  dryad,  nor  bacchante  can  do  a 
song  and  dance  turn  in  my  show  with  a  greased 
head!" 

Time  is  a  potent  remedial  agent,  and  with  the 
aid  of  tar  soap  and  river  water  and  the  benign 
influence  of  the  sun  and  the  wind  it  so  restored  the 
integrity  of  Clotilda's  locks  that  when  it  was  al- 
most five  o'clock  that  afternoon  and  the  excite- 
ment and  interest  of  the  fair  had  reached  the 
culmination  it  was  announced  from  the  stage  of  the 
high-class  concert  that  the  next  attraction,  which 
was  already  widely  advertised,  would  consist  of  a 
song  and  dance  turn  by  a  talented  young  lady  of 
their  own  county,  Miss  Clotilda  Josephine  Belinda 
Pinnott. 

Lloyd's  divination  of  the  value  of  local  interest 
was  justified,  for  the  tent  was  crowded,  and  the 
attractions  elsewhere  suffered  in  consequence.  Sev- 
eral members  of  the  company  left  their  posts,  ac- 
tuated by  curiosity  concerning  this  new  feature. 
The  Flying  Lady  ceased  her  winged  gyrations, 
since  her  tent  was  deserted  for  the  nonce,  and  came 
and  occupied  a  back  seat,  where  she  looked  odd 
enough,  in  her  short  white  satin  gown,  with  her 

10 5 


The  Windfall 

illusion  scarf  and  her  mechanical  wings  embarrass- 
ing her  posture  and  hanging  over  the  bench,  but 
most  of  the  audience  consisted  of  the  rural  element 
with  a  smaller  proportion  of  the  town-folks  all 
expectantly  staring,  anticipating  who  knows  what 
wonders.  The  orchestra  was  in  place  and  the 
music  had  been  for  some  moments  in  full  swing 
when  suddenly  the  curtain  drew  slowly  up  showing 
a  stage,  dappled  with  the  shadows  of  peach  boughs 
and  calcium  light  Beyond  could  be  dimly  de- 
scried the  mountains  with  sunset  on  the  amthys- 
tine  slopes  and  a  crimson  cloud  aloft — this  effect 
had  been  compassed  by  the  simple  expedient  of 
dropping  a  section  of  the  canvas.  The  rear  of  the 
tent  gave  on  a  vacant  space  above  the  bluffs  of  the 
river;  the  slight  elevation  of  the  stage  nullified  this 
interval  and  thus  it  was  against  a  background  of 
forests  and  mountains  that  the  oread  came  softly 
bounding  on  the  stage,  grace  personified,  as  light 
of  foot,  as  innocently  sportive  as  a  fawn.  Her 
left  arm  upheld  the  skirt  of  her  yellow  dress,  into 
which  she  had  gathered  apron-wise  a  mass  of  pur- 
ple grapes;  here  and  there  a  cluster  with  leaves 
and  tendrils  fell  over  against  her  dark  red  pet- 
ticoat. 

With  her  right  hand  she  now  caught  at  a  peach 
on  the  boughs,  deftly  interlaced  beneath  the  roof  of 
the  tent,  and  now  with  a  touch  she  steadied  the 
pail  or  basket  on  her  head,  so  overladen  with 
the  clusters  of  grapes  that  only  the  contour  of  the 
vessel  could  be  descried  in  their  midst.     And  as 

106 


The  Windfall 

she  danced  she  sang,  the  crude  loudness  of  her 
voice  annulled  by  the  crowd,  the  space,  and  per- 
chance a  trifle  of  shyness.  But  indeed  this  was  not 
predicable  of  the  gay  abandon  with  which  she 
threw  herself  into  the  spirit  of  the  "  turn."  The 
limelight,  that  simulated  the  clear  and  burnished 
sunshine,  showed  every  perfection  of  her  beautiful 
face,  the  soft  aureola  of  her  auburn  hair,  all  a 
fluffy  mass,  once  more,  of  picturesque  disorder; 
the  slender  charm  of  her  lissome  figure  and  feet 
and  ankles;  the  exquisite  shape  of  her  arms, 
seeming  in  the  artificial  radiance  of  an  alabastine 
whiteness.  To  her  voice,  like  a  murmurous  rune 
rather  than  an  accompaniment,  for  Lloyd  was 
afraid  that  the  unaccustomed  adjunct  to  her  sing- 
ing might  throw  her  off  the  key,  the  violins  played 
a  gentle  pizzicato  variant  of  the  theme,  of  which 
she  had  been  warned  to  take  no  heed,  and  it  was 
in  accord  with  the  effect  of  the  whole  performance 
that,  in  lieu  of  the  last  furious  whirl  of  the  dan- 
seuse,  the  usual  panting  bow,  the  appealing  gesture 
for  the  plaudits,  the  sunlit  scene  should  vaguely 
vanish,  the  curtain  slowly,  softly  descending,  leav- 
ing the  oread  still  sporting  in  the  sylvan  shadows 
amongst  the  immemorial  fantasies  of  the  realms  of 
poesy. 

The  curtain  was,  however,  ready  to  rise  anew; 
the  manager's  touch  was  on  the  bell,  while  the 
pizzicato  theme  "  Kind  shepherd,  tell  me  true," 
sounded  from  the  violins,  and  now,  to  simulate  an 
echo,  only  one  repeated  the  strain,  and  again  the 

107 


The  Windfall 

first  and  second  together,  with  a  note  from  the 
viol  no  louder  than  a  booming  bee,  and  again 
the  faint  tones  of  the  single  instrument,  and  then — i 
silence. 

It  remained  unbroken  for  several  minutes,  but 
presently  the  audience  stirred  and  exchanged  com- 
ments. There  was  not  the  clap  of  a  hand,  not  a 
voice  raised  in  applause.  Nothing  could  have  fal- 
len more  absolutely  flat  than  the  whole  perform- 
ance. The  musicians,  their  violins  still  adjusted 
under  their  chins  ready  to  begin  anew  on  the  first 
tinkle  of  the  bell,  cast  surprised  glances  at  one 
another,  then  leered  open  ridicule,  and  seeing 
Lloyd  turn  away  from  the  hand-bell  they  lowered 
their  instruments  and  began  to  scrape  them  noisily, 
changing  the  pitch  and  tuning  them  for  a  per- 
formance in  the  pantomine  tent  of  a  comically 
illustrated  version  of  "  A  hot  time  in  the  old  town 
to-night." 

Lloyd's  face  was  flushed,  his  jaunty  confident 
expectation  wilted  utterly.  He  could  not  con- 
ceive how  he  could  be  so  far  out  of  touch  with 
the  sentiment  of  others  that  their  appraisement 
should  differ  so  radically.  The  value  of  the 
"  turn "  in  his  mind  was  not  abated  one  jot  by 
their  lack  of  appreciation ;  he  still  thought  it  beau- 
tiful, unique,  an  exquisite  rustic  idyl,  but  he  lis- 
tened with  a  pained  curiosity  to  the  comments  on 
every  hand,  vaguely  seeking  to  comprehend  the 
reason  of  this  divergence  of  opinion. 

"  Warn't  them  shoes  jes'  old  injer-rubbers?  "  a 
108 


The  Windfall 

country  woman  was  saying  to  another,  with  a 
lowered  voice  and  a  scandalised  mien. 

"  I  reckon  mebbe  she  don't  own  no  better  shoes," 
her  interlocutor  of  charitable  interpretations 
replied. 

"  Mought  hev  been  afeard  she  would  wear  'em 
out  with  all  that  prancin'  an'  hoppin'  up  an' 
down,"  a  speculative  third  suggested. 

"  Wisht  I  hed  my  dime  back,"  a  grizzly  old 
malcontent  sighed.  "  Special  puffawmance — 
shucks !  I  don't  see  nuthin'  special  in  a  mountain 
gal  hoppin'  up  an'  down  arter  a  peach — ye  kin 
see  that  any  day  ye  look  out  o'  the  winder  or 
alongside  o'  the  road." 

"  Waal,  that's  what  riles  me,"  another  of  his 
own  sort  asseverated.  "  I  can't  see  the  p'int  o' 
that  show." 

The  "  stunt "  encountered  even  more  than  a  dull 
lack  of  appreciation  and  disapproval:  in  one  in- 
stance Lloyd,  looking  about  with  a  manager's  keen 
eyes  to  discriminate  effect,  detected  ridicule,  ab- 
solute and  hearty — a  covert  ridicule  which  was  to 
his  mind  more  disparaging  to  the  value  of  the 
turn  than  bluff  open  laughter.  A  rural  wight, 
whose  intent  interest  he  had  earlier  noted,  was 
still  in  his  seat,  holding  his  head  down  till  his  chin 
was  sunk  in  the  frayed  and  dirty  lapels  of  his  old 
grey  coat.  He  wore  his  hat  in  the  tent,  the  habit 
of  most  of  the  country  contingent,  and  the  broad 
flapping  white  wool  brim  almost  hid  his  face,  but 
his  bent  shoulders  shook  with  convulsive  merrl- 

109 


\THe  Windfall 

ment,  and  again  and  again  he  muttered  to  him- 
self, "  What  a  fool  he  hev  made  of  her — what  a 
fool — what  a  fool !  "  More  than  once  he  drew 
out  a  great  bandana  handkerchief  to  wipe  the 
moisture  from  his  eyes.  It  was  a  genuine  demon- 
stration of  enjoyment  of  the  fiasco  as  Lloyd,  net- 
tled and  troubled,  could  but  perceive,  for  on  each 
of  these  occasions  of  the  requisition  of  the  red 
handkerchief  the  spectator  seemed  to  glance 
about  anxiously  over  its  folds  at  the  surrounding 
crowd,  as  if  solicitous  that  his  sentiment  should  not 
be  observed. 

The  more  experienced  townspeople  had  not 
more  receptivity  for  the  subtler  elements  of  the 
presentation.  As  the  crowd  pressed  out  of  the 
tent,  for  the  special  performance  had  been  given 
a  place  to  itself,  Lloyd  overheard  the  comments 
of  one  of  the  village  youths,  tinged  with  the  con- 
tempt always  felt  by  the  urban  denizens  for  the 
dwellers  in  the  mountains  and  coves. 

"  I  must  apologise,  Miss  Minnie,"  he  was  say- 
ing to  the  young  lady  whose  parasol  he  carried, 
"  for  bringing  you  in  here,  for  imposing  on  your 
patience — I  thought  from  the  advertisements  that 
this  was  really  going  to  be  something  extra." 

"  She  was  right  pretty,"  said  the  young  lady 
politely,  trying  to  seem  not  to  have  been  so  ill- 
entertained  by  the  performance. 

u  Pretty? — perhaps — if  she  were  properly 
dressed — and  had  had  her  hair  combed — and  had 
sung  something  new,  with  snap  and  ginger  in  it, 

no 


The  Windfall 

instead  of  the  fag  end  of  a  drawling  old  song,  as 
old  as  Noah." 

More  than  one  of  the  town  ladies  of  mature 
years  murmured  in  pettish  reprobation  over  her 
fan  to  another,  "  She  was  real  shabby  and  untidy, 
wasn't  she?"  "  Perhaps  she  is  poor?"  Lloyd 
heard  this  excuse  suggested,  yet  once  again. 

The  reply  to  it  stayed  in  his  mind :  "  She  isn't 
poor — old  Shadrach  Pinnott  has  the  best  of  all 
good  reasons  for  not  being  poor,  they  say." 

The  echo  of  the  general  rural  criticism  from 
persons  of  local  station  and  presumable  pro- 
priety and  refinement,  albeit  Lloyd  felt  their 
animadversions  ill-taken  and  out  of  keeping  with 
any  artistic  perceptions,  made  him  unwilling  to  re- 
tain the  position  of  arbiter  in  the  matter. 

It  seemed  to  Lloyd  that  with  his  trials,  many 
and  various  as  they  were,  he  hardly  needed  the 
added  discipline  of  self-reproach  and  the  fear  of 
having  inflicted  a  disparagement  upon  an  innocent 
and  unoffending  soul.  He  had  begun  to  be  so 
doubtful  of  himself  and  the  value  of  his  own  per- 
suasions that  he  fairly  feared  to  lay  the  matter 
before  the  old  mountaineer  and  his  eldest  son. 
But  he  had  discerned  a  conservative  quality  in  the 
serious,  steady  Daniel  Pinnott,  and  he  esteemed 
himself  fortunate  in  finding  the  two  men  together. 
They  were  at  the  camping  place  they  had  selected 
near  the  town,  and  although  the  oxen  of  the  team 
had  been  turned  out  to  graze,  the  waggon  stood  still 
laden  as  he  had  seen  it  when  in  the  streets.    A  fire 

in 


The  Windfall 

burned  briskly  on  a  rocky  space  sloping  to  the 
river  bank,  though  amongst  the  ledges  the  grass 
was  rank  and  green.  Several  great  trees,  oak,  elm, 
beech,  and  ash,  cast  broad  shadows  from  their  full- 
foliaged  boughs.  The  sky,  all  red  and  gold  in  the 
west,  was  mottled  here  and  there  with  purple 
flecks,  and  across  the  blue  zenith  were  two  long 
cirrus  clouds  dazzlingly  white  with  a  suggestion  of 
wings,  drooping,  folded,  not  in  ill  accord  with  the 
thoughts  attendant  on  the  down-dropping  of  the 
vermilion  sphere  of  the  sun  behind  the  dark,  mas- 
sive western  mountains,  and  the  illuminated,  al- 
most translucent  aspect  of  the  amethystine  ranges 
to  the  east.  The  reflection  of  the  white  clouds 
gave  the  surface  of  the  river  a  vivid  glint  here  and 
there  among  the  rocks  that  fretted  its  current. 
Close  to  the  shore  it  was  smooth,  and  here  the 
bank  was  low  and  shelving.  Cows,  homeward 
bound  from  the  range  of  the  woodlands,  loitered 
knee  deep  in  the  ripples,  now  bending  a  horned 
head  to  drink  of  the  crystal-clear  water,  now  in 
the  serene  bovine  content  gazing  meditatively, 
motionlessly,  at  the  illusive  apotheosis  of  the 
eastern  mountains,  as  ethereal,  as  unearthly  of  as- 
pect as  a  dream  of  the  hills  of  heaven.  There  was 
no  glimpse  of  the  town  from  this  point;  a  slight 
elevation  cut  off  the  view  as  completely  as  if  this 
exponent  of  civilisation  were  miles  distant.  Ex- 
cept for  the  serpentine  curves  of  the  road  the  spot 
was  as  isolated  as  any  such  sylvan  nook  on  their 
own  mountain.     Three  sticks  and  a   crane  sup- 

112 


The  Windfall 

ported  a  pot  over  the  fire  and  old  Mrs.  Pinnott, 
with  a  crutch  stick,  a  discerning,  excited  eye,  and 
a  long  spoon,  bent  over  to  stir  the  steaming  con- 
tents. As  she  caught  up  her  skirts  to  avoid  the 
flames  and  circled  hirpling  about  to  compass  this 
devoir  Lloyd  was  ashamed  to  entertain  a  reminder 
of  Macbeth's  witches,  whom  he  knew  only  in  their 
stage  aspect.  She  did  not  hail  him  as  "  thane  of 
Cawdor  "  as  he  passed,  but  her  greeting  was  hardly 
less  flattering.  Mrs.  Pinnott  had  been  deeply  im- 
pressed by  the  splendours  of  the  Street  Fair.  There 
was  a  pulse  within  her  which  beat  responsive  to 
worldly  glories,  and  high  social  preferments,  and 
Lloyd's  station  in  her  estimation  had  appreciated 
in  due  proportion.  She  waved  the  long  spoon  at 
him  in  the  fervour  of  her  congratulation. 

"  It's  plumb  beautiful,"  she  opined  enthusiasti- 
cally. "I  ain't  never  seen  the  beat!  I  wisht  I 
hed  eyes  all  around  my  head  so  ez  I  mought  stare 
my  fill.  You — you  air  a  plumb  special  showman 
an'  no  mistake,"  and  once  more  she  bent  to  the 
stirring  of  the  pot. 

"  Now  I'll  take  no  denial,"  said  Lloyd,  ad- 
vancing. "  You  have  got  to  come  up  to  town  with 
me  after  tea  and  we  will  go  up  in  the  Ferris  Wheel 
together.  That'll  be  full  safe — I'll  see  to  it  that 
you  don't  fall  out.  I'll  sit  by  you — the  settees  are 
made  for  two." 

"  Fine  for  courting"  Mrs.  Pinnott  was  airily 
coquettish.  "  Some  o'  them  high-steppin'  town 
gals  that  I  see  lookin'  arter  you  uns  so  \oy\vx   this 

"3. 


The  Windfall 

evenin'  mought  put  a  spider  in  my  cup,  seein'  me 
'tended  by  sech  a  handsome  proud-sperited  young 


man." 


"  Proud-spirited,"  cried  poor  Lloyd,  with  a 
dreary  laugh.     "  I  feel  as  meek  as  Moses." 

Mrs.  Daniel  Pinnott  was  peeling  potatoes  at 
a  little  distance,  and  the  baby  in  a  blue  calico 
slip,  lying  in  the  grass,  kicking  up  its  dimpled  pink 
heels,  was  consigned  to  the  care  of  a  great  cur,  that 
now  licked  its  face  and  now  affected  to  bite  the 
soft  hand  which  the  infant  thrust  up  into  his  open 
jaws,  and  now  squealed  in  shrill  pain  as  the  baby 
fingers  pinched  and  tugged  at  his  defenceless  ears 
with  a  strength  hardly  to  be  expected  of  such  cal- 
low muscles. 

"  Both  you  lydies  must  come  in  time  to  see  the 
pyrotechnic  exhibition,  and  go  through  the  whole 
show,  and  if  you  bring  any  money  with  you  I'll 
hold  you  up  and  throw  every  cent  you  have  got  into 
the  river." 

Old  Mrs.  Pinnott  inclined  graciously  to  this 
proposition.  She  had  already  paid  to  see  a  part  of 
the  show  and  thus  satisfied  her  sense  of  independ- 
ence. If  the  manager  were  polite  enough  to  favour 
her  with  a  second  view  of  the  scenes  which  her 
memory  gloated  upon  with  so  much  delight,  she 
saw  no  reason  why  she  should  deny  herself  this 
pleasure.  "  I  be  goin'  ter  stay  all  night  with  my 
niece,  Malviny  Bostel,  her  who  merried  a  Fenton 
before  she  merried  Bostel — Fenton  bein'  gone  ter 
glory,  pore  man !    All  we  wimmen  folks,  'bout  bed- 

114 


The  Windfall. 

time,  air  goin'  ter  her  house  fur  the  night,  bein'  ez 
we  uns  don't  favour  sleep  in'  round  a  camp  fire  like 
Towse  thar,  or  the  men-folks — thar  ain't  room  in 
the  waggin.  An',  stranger,  I  ain't  settin'  out  ter 
saftsawder  you  uns  whenst  I  say  ez  I  had  ruther  go 
ridin'  in  that  big  swing  with  you  uns  than  ter  set 
in  Malviny's  '  parlour/  ez  she  calls  it,  an'  hear  her 
talk  so  mealy-mouthed,  an'  finified,  an'  explain  all 
the  town  doin's  ter  her  kentry  kin — she  'lowed  ter 
me  ez  she  talked  through  a  telly-fun  whenst  she 
war  in  Glaston,  an'  Rufe  Bostel  hearn  her  at 
Shaftesville,  full  twenty  odd  mile  off — though 
mebbe  he  did — his  ears  air  long  enough  fur  any- 
thing. He  minds  me  of  a  mule  in  more  ways  than 
one !  Waal,  I  know  fust  off  ez  much  about  the 
Street  Fair  ez  Malviny  kin  tell  me,  an'  more — fur 
I  know  her  well  enough  ter  take  my  affle-david  to 
it  that  she  didn't  spen'  many  dimes  with  you  uns. 
An'  I'd  be  glad  ter  pass  my  evenin'  somewhar  else, 
so's  I  kin  purtend  ter  be  so  tired  I  can't  do  nuthin' 
but  sink  on  my  pillow  fur  my  solemn  night's  rest 
whenst  I  git  back  ter  Malviny's  '  parlour,'  ez  she 
calls  it." 

"  I'll  engage  that  nobody  can  teach  you  any- 
thing about  the  Street  Fair  after  I'm  through 
showing  you  around,"  Lloyd  declared,  and  me- 
chanically lifting  his  hat  he  passed  on,  leaving  her 
staring  after  him  admiring  his  grace.  "  The  man's 
got  the  manners  of  a  red-bird,"  she  exclaimed  en- 
thusiastically. 

But  Lloyd  was  ill  at  ease  as  he  approached 
ii5 


The  Windfall 

Shadrach  Pinnott  and  his  son  Daniel.  The  old 
man  stood  with  the  ox-yoke  in  his  hand,  half  lean- 
ing on  it  as  he  disentangled  a  rope  that  had  become 
wound  about  it,  while  his  son  bent  under  a  bundle 
of  fodder,  taken  from  the  rear  of  the  waggon,  and 
was  flinging  it  down  on  the  flat  surface  of  an  out- 
cropping ledge  of  rock  near  the  river,  preparing 
the  supper  of  the  oxen.  Both  mountaineers  looked 
at  him  with  such  eager  expectant  apprehensiveness 
that  the  awkwardness  of  his  mission  seemed  aug- 
mented by  their  attitude.  He  felt  that  it  was 
necessary  to  break  the  ice  at  once — in  fact  he  could 
not  be  silent  before  the  coercive  inquiry  of  their 
gaze. 

"  Did  you  hear  your  daughter  sing,  Mr.  Pin- 
nott? "  he  asked.  The  surprise,  the  tension  of 
doubt  in  the  expression  of  their  faces  gave  way 
suddenly,  with  an  effect  of  flouting  contempt,  as 
if  they  had  expected  or  feared  to  hear  something 
different.  Shadrach  did  not  reply.  Both  seemed 
absorbed  in  a  silent  communion  with  their  own 
thoughts.  Lloyd  perceived  that  what  he  had 
said  was  of  such  slight  importance  in  their  opinion 
in  comparison  with  what  they  had  in  mind  that  he 
would  have  some  difficulty  in  securing  and  hold- 
ing their  attention. 

"  It  was  a  good  turn — a  better  song-and-dance 
I  never  saw, — but  I  am  sorry  I  asked  her  to  show. 
I  want  to  explain  to  you  that  I'd  rather  she 
wouldn't  appear — favour  us — again  at  all." 

"  Why — why?  "  There  was  only  curiosity  in 
lid 


The  Windfall 

the  old  man's  tones.  The  confidence  which  Lloyd 
had  won  was  very  complete.  He  suspected  no 
rudeness — he  appreciated  no  lack  of  tact. 

"  I  feel  very  responsible  for  a  misunderstand- 
ing that  has  got  about,"  said  Lloyd.  "  I  insisted, 
against  her  preference,  that  she  should  appear  in 
a  rustic  costume  and  her  soft  old  shoes.  I  heard 
some  comments  afterwards  in  the  audience. 
People  thought  it  shabby  and  inappropriate  and 
disrespectful  to  the  public." 

"  Them  town  toads?  "  said  Daniel.  "  We  uns 
ain't  carin'  what  they  think  'bout  shoes  an'  seen." 

"  Call  Clotildy— ax  the  child  herself,"  said 
Shadrach  Pinnott   hastily. 

She  was  not  far  away,  filling  a  bucket  with  water 
at  the  spring  which  bubbled  out  from  a  mass  of 
rocks  close  by  the  river  side — a  clear  pool  of 
crystal  brown,  its  depths  catching  the  light  like 
some  gigantic  topaz.  The  three  men  all  ap- 
proached her  when  her  clear  answering  voice  in  the 
evening  stillness  revealed  her  presence  there.  She 
bent  down,  sunk  the  bucket  into  the  depths,  then 
placing  it  on  her  head,  stood,  one  hand  on  her  hip, 
the  other  lifted  to  the  pail,  and  waited,  motionless, 
their  coming  within  speaking  distance.  She  was 
again  garbed  in  her  holiday  gown  of  brown  mot- 
tled muslin,  that  had  so  offended  the  manager's 
artistic  predilections,  and  once  more  her  feet  were 
encased  in  the  brogans  that  disguised  beyond  all 
suggestion  their  grace  of  form  and  elasticity  of 
fibre.    But  her  hair  still  showed  its  soft  flaunting 

117 


\THe  Windfall 

auburn  hue,  and  rose  in  pliant,  redundant  waves 
from  her  brow  and  was  coiled  in  a  great  knot  at 
the  back  of  her  head.  She  listened  without  a  word 
to  the  explanation  which  the  three  men  made  in 
disconnected  instalments,  her  eyes  turning  from 
one  to  the  other  as  each  successively  took  up  the 
story.  She  showed  no  confusion;  her  face  was 
absolutely  inexpressive.  Lloyd  began  to  doubt  how 
he  might  best  reach  her  understanding.  But  when 
she  suddenly  spoke  it  was  obvious  that  she  had 
grasped  the  whole  situation. 

"  The  mounting  folks  purtend  ez  I  ain't  got  no 
better  shoes — waal,  ef  they  look  right  sharp  ter- 
night  they'll  see  these,  bran  new  an'  middlin' 
stout."  She  glanced  down  at  them  with  the  pride 
of  possession.  "  An'  the  town  folks  purtend  ter 
be  powerful  shocked  kase  my  old  calico  dress  ain't 
fine  enough.  Why,  they  air  obleeged  ter  know 
ez  it  air  a  part  of  the  '  turn  '  like  the  peach-tree 
branches.  Nobody  gathers  fruit  and  dances  in  an 
orchard  in  thar  Sunday-go-ter-meetin'  clothes." 

Her  logic  reassured  Lloyd  as  to  the  merely  cap- 
tious nature  of  the  criticism — he  had  not  insisted 
on  a  point  that  could  fairly  discredit  her  in  her 
neighbours'  eyes.  "  But  since  the  question  has  been 
raised,"  he  said,  "  I  think  we  won't  have  the  song- 
and-dance  again." 

She  withered  him  with  a  glance.  "  These  folks 
can't  ondertake  ter  teach  me  whut's  respectable," 
she  said  not  without  dignity.  "  I'll  dance  in  my 
old  shoes  and  my  yellow  calico  dress  every  day 

118 


The  Windfall 

whilst  I'm  in  town,  an'  then  I'll  go  creakin'  all 
around  in  my  new  shoes  an'  my  new  muslin  ter 
show  the  folks  I  hev  got  'em.  I  won't  allow  ez 
they  kin  gin  me  the  word  what  air  'spectable." 

Then  with  the  utmost  composure,  her  bucket 
poised  upon  her  head,  she  took  her  way  past  them 
and  shouldered  the  responsibility  herself. 

Lloyd  was  infinitely  relieved,  but  as  he  walked 
back  toward  the  town  he  overtook  a  man  whom  he 
remembered  instantly  to  have  earlier  noticed — he 
had  been  laughing  like  a  satyr  at  the  spectacle  of 
the  dancing  oread  in  the  show  that  afternoon. 
There  was  something  so  malicious,  so  triumphant 
in  the  character  of  his  mirth  that  Lloyd's  keen  ob- 
servation might  have  discriminated  its  peculiar 
relish  of  the  girl's  failure  to  win  the  public  favour, 
even  if  he  had  not  had  the  success  of  the  "  turn  " 
so  much  at  heart.  With  his  retentive  mind  he 
would  have  remembered  the  demonstration  in  any 
event,  but  as  he  passed  the  man  whose  face  was 
also  turned  toward  the  village  he  received  an  un- 
pleasant impression  that  he  had  been  followed.  If 
this  man  had  gone  by  the  Pinnott  encampment 
along  the  road,  as  several  others  had  done,  Lloyd 
argued  within  himself  that  he  would  likewise  have 
noticed  the  fact;  the  man  had  obviously  left  the 
town  last,  and  it  was  certainly  somewhat  odd  that 
within  so  short  an  interval  of  time  he  should  be 
overtaken  wending  his  way  thither.  He  was  not 
of  the  type  or  station  to  indulge  in  a  stroll  for 
pleasure  or  a  constitutional  tramp.     He  seemed, 

119 


The  Windfall 

moreover,  infirm,  walking  very  slowly  and  he 
leaned  heavily  on  a  stout  cane.  Lloyd  noticed  as 
he  passed  that  the  high  cowhide  boots  which  he 
wore  had  been  split  by  a  knife  with  longitudinal 
strokes  above  the  toes  of  each  foot,  suggesting  the 
torture  of  bunions.  The  gray  coat  loose  and  long 
was  not  of  the  usual  homespun  jeans,  but  of  some 
store-bought  fabric,  and  from  the  web  the  nap  had 
so  worn  that  the  original  texture  was  indetermin- 
able. The  garment  boasted  few  buttons;  the  sub- 
stitute of  a  ten-penny  nail  was  dexterously  inserted 
in  the  upper  button-hole  and  an  opportune  rent 
in  the  opposite  side.  It  was  frayed  and  even  jagged 
around  the  edges,  and  the  trousers  of  the  same 
goods,  loose  and  bagging  about  the  knees,  were 
in  scarcely  better  repair.  His  shoulders  were  bent 
and  slouched,  and  the  coat  was  either  too  large  at 
first  or  had  stretched  with  wear  into  many  rucks 
and  wrinkles.  It  had  suggestions  of  a  miller's 
habit,  for  here  and  there  were  traces  of  flour,  and 
the  old  white  wool  hat  had  neither  binding  on  its 
wide  brim  nor  a  hatband. 

Lloyd  sought  to  cast  off  the  disagreeable  im- 
pression. He  had  naught  to  hide.  He  could  be 
followed,  if  indeed  his  steps  had  been  dogged  at 
all,  only  from  the  idlest  curiosity.  The  rural  peo- 
ple seemed  in  fact  so  elementary,  so  primitive,  that 
the  showman,  himself,  might  be  accounted  an  ob- 
ject of  interest.  And  even  as  he  thus  reasoned  he 
perceived  the  fallacy,  but  he  had  scant  leisure  to 
canvass  the  incident. 

1120 


CHAPTER  VII 

LLOYD  could  not  remember  an  evening  in 
his  humble  career  as  impresario  that  had 
-•  so  strained  and  racked  his  endurance.  The 
pyrotechnic  exhibition  bade  fair  to  be  a  failure, 
some  of  the  combustibles  having  gotten  damp  in 
the  downpour  of  rain  on  the  previous  evening,  and 
each  piece  refusing  to  fizzle  or  shoot  or  whirl, 
whatever  its  particular  method  of  explosion  might 
be,  while  all  the  town  gathered  and  stared,  and 
laughed,  and  grew  indignant,  and  made  sarcastic 
comments  somewhat  incompatible  with  the  fact 
that  the  fireworks  were  a  free  show,  and  that  no 
spectator  was  defrauded  of  his  money.  Suddenly, 
after  so  much  futile  effort,  and  without  any  of  the 
usual  incentives,  a  small  waggon  which  had  brought 
the  explosives  from  the  station  to  the  square,  was 
lifted  toward  the  stars  in  jets  of  red,  blue,  yellow, 
green  and  white  light ;  rockets  were  darting,  comet- 
like, hither  and  thither  through  the  crowd;  Cather- 
ine wheels  whirled;  Roman  candles  blazed;  cannon 
crackers  exploded;  all  in  simultaneous  clamour  and 
flare.  The  terrified  horse,  breaking  loose  from  his 
harness,  set  off  at  a  frantic  speed,  and  the  driver 
was  thrown  to  the  earth,  not  dead  nor  wounded 
as  the  men,  rushing  to  his  assistance,  expected  to 
find  him,  but  powder-smirched,  slightly  jarred,  con- 

121 


The  Windfall 

vulsed  with  laughter,  declaring  that  his  ascension 
discounted  the  Flying  Lady's  jaunts  into  the  air, 
and  showing  himself  to  be  very  considerably  drunk 
— a  state  which  had  not  been  at  all  obvious  before 
the  explosion. 

The  crowd's  interest  in  combustibles  had  very 
sensibly  diminished  and  when  the  final  balloons  had 
gone  wafting  away  over  the  dark  stretches  of  the 
infinite  loneliness  of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains 
— to  astonish  the  eyes  of  some  remote  dweller 
therein,  knowing  naught  even  of  the  existence  of 
so  sophisticated  a  fact  as  a  street  fair,  or  perchance 
to  be  seen  only  by  a  marauding  wolf  or  a  crafty 
fox  and  seeming  to  follow  with  the  red  eye  of 
menace  the  beast's  pursuit  of  his  prey, — the  craning 
necks  of  the  villagers  were  tired  and  the  sight- 
seers turned  with  ready  zest  to  the  merry-go-round, 
the  kinetoscope,  the  venders  of  indigestible  edibles, 
the  various  show-tents,  the  revolutions  of  the  Fer- 
ris Wheel.  The  continual  ascent  and  descent  of 
the  passengers,  swinging  in  the  great  periphery, 
maintained  a  perennial  interest  for  the  public  of 
Colbury.  As  the  wheel  lifted  its  patrons  higher 
and  higher  into  the  air  it  paused  entirely  now  and 
then,  that  they  might  swing  gently  at  a  giddy  ele- 
vation and  look  away  from  the  town,  studded 
with  the  lights  of  the  street  fair,  flaring  in  the 
clear,  dark  atmosphere,  and  enjoy  the  far  prospect 
of  valley  and  river  and  the  clifty  defiles  of  the 
mountains,  all  an  illumined  purple  and  silver  in 
the  sheen  of  the  serene  autumnal  moon. 

122 


The  Windfall 

But  even  in  this  simple  routine,  quiet  shunned  the 
harassed  manager.  The  wheel  was  laden,  as  Lloyd 
in  his  general  supervisory  duties,  strolled  up  and 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  stood  watching  its 
revolution.  Every  seat  but  one  was  filled,  and  the 
exclamations  of  delight  and  wonder  in  the  voices 
of  children  and  women  sounded  pleasantly  enough 
on  the  air.  Suddenly  raucous  tones  from  high  in 
the  darkness  broke  forth;  a  man  was  thickly  pro- 
testing fear  and  anger  and  contention,  and  soon  his 
voice  rose  into  sobs  and  wild  cries,  infinitely  weird 
and  nerve  thrilling,  sounding  from  the  height  and 
the  indefinite  gloom,  and  fraught  with  unimagined 
disaster.  Amongst  the  venturesome  wights,  swing- 
ing so  high  above  the  earth,  the  utmost  consterna- 
tion prevailed,  and  pleas  of  eager  insistence  to  be 
lowered  and  released  came  from  every  swing.  A 
halloo  of  inquiry  from  the  manager  below  ad- 
dressed to  the  disturber  of  the  peace  elicited  only 
agonised  prayers  for  succour  and  cries  of  pain  that 
rose  piercingly  into  the  night.  The  mystery  being 
insoluble  Lloyd's  first  care  was  to  caution  the  other 
occupants  of  the  swings  to  remain  firmly  seated  in 
their  places  and  to  release  them  seriatim  as  soon  as 
the  great  wheel  could  complete  its  revolution. 
While  this  was  in  progress  he  stood  close  by,  scan- 
ning the  passengers  as  one  by  one  they  emerged, 
keenly  watching  lest  the  spoil-sport,  madman,  or 
victim,  who  had  so  signally  destroyed  the  pleasure 
of  the  crowd  and  injured  the  prestige  of  the  Ferris 
Wheel,  escape  undetected  in  the  press.    He  proved 

I23i 


The  Windfall 

easily  enough  identified,  however,  as,  still  whimper- 
ing in  the  intervals  of  uttering  wild  cries,  he  came 
to  the  ground  and  was  seized  upon  by  the  stalwart 
showman. 

He  had  been  stabbed,  he  declared,  and  he  would 
sue  the  company.  When  reminded  that  he  had 
been  in  a  seat  alone,  and  inquired  of  as  to  the  per- 
petrator of  the  deed  he  asseverated  that  when  as 
high  as  the  top  of  the  wheel  a  stranger  had  climbed 
into  the  seat  with  him,  a  stranger  of  a  most  ter- 
rible aspect.  In  fact,  this  terrible  stranger  looked 
just  like  the  devil,  he  solemnly  averred,  with  evi- 
dent familiarity  with  the  diabolic  features.  And 
there,  while  suspended  so  high  above  the  world  that 
none  could  succour  him,  this  demon-man  had 
stabbed  him — and  he  would  have  damages  of  the 
show  company — stabbed  him  in  the  right  side. 

With  the  most  dismal  forebodings,  for  the  man 
was  evidently  half  fainting  and  had  the  pallor  of 
death,  Lloyd  called  the  engineer  from  the  little 
gasoline  motor  of  the  wheel  to  his  assistance,  and 
supporting  the  victim  between  them  they  took  their 
way  to  the  drug  store  on  the  corner.  Lloyd  no- 
ticed the  feeble  step  of  their  burden,  as  his  feet 
half  dragged  on  the  ground,  and  the  nerveless 
languor  of  his  form,  and  began  to  fear  that  he 
was  indeed  in  bad  case.  The  truth  did  not  even 
vaguely  dawn  upon  Lloyd  until  the  physician,  who 
had  been  hastily  summoned,  looked  the  victim  over 
and  declared  that  his  skin  was  unbroken  through- 
out and  he  had  never  been  stabbed. 

124 


The  Windfall 

"  Why,  what  could  have  been  his  motive  in  all 
this  commotion?  "  asked  Lloyd  in  wonderment. 

"  Can't  you  see?"  the  doctor  queried  in  turn. 
"  He  is  on  the  verge  of  delirium  tremens." 

As  Lloyd  stood  in  the  door  of  the  drug  store  in 
the  light  which  streamed  through  the  great  red  and 
green  glass  bottles  in  the  windows,  that  bespoke 
its  functions,  he  listened  to  the  snickering  com- 
ments of  the  men  on  the  sidewalk  while  they  recited 
to  newcomers  the  details  of  the  incident,  and  his 
mind  laid  hold  of  certain  unexplained  points  which 
were  most  pertinent  to  its  proper  comprehension. 

"  Why,  I  thought  that  Colbury  was  a  dry  town," 
he  addressed  one  of  the  bystanders.  "  Where  do 
all  these  drunken  men  get  their  liquor?  " 

"  I  dunno — do  you?"  His  interlocutor  favoured 
him  with  a  facetious  wink  which  was  in  the  nature 
of  things  an  equivocal  demonstration,  for  as  he 
faced  the  light  of  the  drug  store  windows  the  wink 
was  both  red  and  green. 

"  Well,  the  liquor  must  be  pretty  cheap  to  be 
drunk  in  such  glorious  plenty,"  Lloyd  remarked 
impersonally. 

For  the  crowd  was  of  a  grade  that  has  little 
money  to  spend,  and  it  would  seem  that  the  Fair 
must  needs  absorb  a  good  part  of  it. 

"  Liquor  is  cheap ! — you  bet  your  life,"  his 
interlocutor  treated  him  to  another  rainbow-tinted 
wink,  "  liquor  is  cheap, — for  Shadrach  Pinnott  is 
in  town !  " 

The  simple  words  explained  many  things  to 
125 


The  Windfall 

Lloyd's  quick  perceptions — the  waggon  laden  with 
baskets  to  sell,  the  secluded  camping-ground  on  the 
river-bank,  yet  near  the  town,  which  was  a  vir- 
tuous dry  town  with  not  a  saloon  open  in  the  place. 
This  surreptitious  sale  of  liquor  was  doubtless 
illegal  in  more  than  one  sense,  evading  the  tax  of 
the  revenue  law  of  the  government  as  well  as  de- 
fying the  restrictions  of  the  municipal  prohibition. 
He  was  remembering  the  occasion  of  his  arrival 
on  the  mountain — how  the  girl  had  followed  him 
to  the  house  as  if  she  feared  his  escape;  how,  de- 
spite the  torrents  of  rain,  she  had  sought  her  father 
and  brothers  to  submit  to  their  judgment  the  mys- 
tery of  his  sudden  appearance ;  how  eagerly  anxious 
was  the  old  beldame  in  volunteering  to  account  for 
their  vocation  and  the  use  to  which  they  put  the 
product  of  their  great  orchards ;  how  obviously  re- 
lieved they  had  seemed  when  they  had  learned  his 
own  vocation.  It  was  all  plain,  now;  they  were 
distillers  of  illicit  whisky  and  brandy,  and  they  had 
suspected  him  as  an  emissary  of  the  revenue  depart- 
ment, a  detective,  or  one  of  the  marshal's  men.  It 
was  not  an  unnatural  conclusion,  perhaps;  strangers 
in  those  secluded  fastnesses,  unheralded  and  with- 
out vouchers,  were  rare  and  obnoxious  to  suspicion. 
The  matter  was  peculiarly  distasteful  to  Lloyd 
individually,  who  was  a  sober,  law-abiding  citizen, 
and  in  the  interests  of  the  Street  Fair,  specially 
repugnant.  He  resented  the  fact  that  the  enterpris- 
ing moonshiners  should  contrive  to  utilise  the 
presence  of  his  show  in  the  streets  of  Colbury  to 

126 


The  Windfall 

share  the  profits  of  the  occasion  with  their  nefarious 
and  illicit  trade.  Absurdly  enough  in  view  of  its 
humble  insignificance  Lloyd  was  proud  of  his  Fair 
— it  was  a  clean  show,  he  averred;  it  had  no  dis- 
reputable hangers-on  nor  traffic;  its  members 
worked  faithfully  for  their  scanty  wages;  it  lived 
up  to  its  representations,  barring  of  course  the  few 
illusions  and  devices  necessary  to  heighten  amuse- 
ment. It  tolerated  no  false  dealing  on  the  part  of 
its  concessionaries  toward  the  unsophisticated  and 
simple  population;  it  was  a  strictly  temperance 
organisation — the  acrobats  required  sobriety  to 
conserve  the  control  of  the  nerves,  and  the  other 
members  of  the  company,  hard  at  work  from  early 
morn  till  late  at  night,  had  neither  time  nor  in- 
clination to  indulge  in  the  flowing  bowl.  Lloyd 
was  nettled,  even  more,  troubled,  that  it  should  be 
associated  in  any  way  with  the  risky  trade  plying 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  The  sudden  presence 
of  numbers  of  intoxicated  men  could  be  accounted 
for  by  the  authorities  in  no  way  but  by  the  sus- 
picion of  the  sly  sale  of  liquor  in  the  Fair  itself,  or 
by  some  surreptitious  vendor  disconnected  with  its 
management.  This  elusive  law-breaker  would  be 
difficult  to  discover,  even  though  he  bore  the  repu- 
tation of  previous  exploits  of  the  kind;  the  sale  of 
the  home-made  baskets  was  a  very  efficient  blind; 
the  spot  which  the  moonshiner  had  selected  was 
Invaluable  for  his  purposes,  so  secluded,  so  close 
to  the  bank — a  sudden  alarm  and  the  chaste  sylvan 
waters  of  the  crystal  river  would  be  adulterated 

127 


{The  Windfall 

in  a  wise  never  known  before,  the  land  flowing 
with  toddy,  in  lieu  of  the  conventional  milk  and 
honey.  Lloyd  winced  as  he  reflected  that  he,  the 
manager  of  the  Carnival,  had  been  seen  to  repair 
to  this  spot  this  afternoon,  that  he  had  earlier 
visited  the  moonshiners'  house,  and  apparently 
given  them  their  first  intimation  that  they  should 
attend  the  Street  Fair. 

As  he  still  stood  on  the  street  corner,  looking 
about  mechanically,  his  hat  drawn  down  over  his 
brow,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  he  was  lost  in 
thought  and  saw  naught  of  the  scene  before  him — 
the  torches  in  front  of  the  stands  of  confectionery 
and  the  peanut  roaster;  the  electric  stars  that  stud- 
ded the  circumference  of  the  Ferris  Wheel ;  the  big 
mooney  lustre  of  the  rows  of  tents,  the  flare  within 
illumining  the  outer  aspect  of  the  canvas;  the 
courthouse  rising  up  in  the  midst,  taking  on  a  sort 
of  castellated  dignity  as  its  tower  loomed  in  the 
dim  light  of  uncertainty  above;  the  motley  crowd 
surging  hither  and  thither  wherever  a  sudden  com- 
motion gave  promise  of  special  attraction  or  the 
added  sensation  of  an  accident;  the  straggling 
glimmer  from  the  lighted  windows  of  the  resi- 
dences of  the  town  along  the  hillside;  and  further 
away  the  contour  of  august  mountain  ranges  under 
the  melancholy  light  of  a  young  moon,  little  more 
than  a  gilded  sickle  cutting  the  mists,  like  the  test 
of  the  temper  of  the  scimiter  of  the  Orient  dividing 
the  gauze  veil  at  a  single  stroke.  He  heard 
naught  of  the  varied  clamours  of  the  town — the 

12$ 


The  Windfall 

callow  vociferations  of  the  ever-present  small  boy, 
the  clatter  of  tongues  in  conversation  and  com- 
ment, the  sudden  brazen  outpour  of  tumult  when 
the  brass  band  sent  a  popular  melody  pulsing  along 
the  currents  of  the  air,  the  frantic  cries  of  the 
spielers  contending  against  each  other  and  vaunt- 
ing their  rival  attractions.  Great  favourites  these 
were  with  the  country  crowd,  and  it  was  a  facile 
laugh  that  rewarded  their  pleasantries.  Sometimes 
these  verged  on  hardihood.  "Isaac!  Isaac!  he 
eats  'em — he  eats  'em  alive !  Come  in !  Come  in, 
an'  see  the  snake-eater,  lady — he  eats  'em  alive!  " 
Then  resounded  his  rival,  "  Oh,  lady,  don't  go 
down  there.  Come  in  here  and  see  the  Fat  Lady — 
weighs  six  hundred  pounds." 

And  anon  the  retort,  "  Oh,  lady,  that  feller 
ain't  got  no  fat  woman — none  but  skin-and-bone 
would  look  at  him.  Here's  Isaac — worth  the 
money;  he  eats  'em — he  eats  'em,  alive." 

And  once  more  "  Weighs  six  hunderd  pounds — 
come  in  and  see  her  tip  the  beam — oh,  lady,  don't 
believe  that  snake-man.  The  serpent  was  ever  the 
snare  of  the  fair  sex !  That  feller  is  the  same  one 
that  crawled  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  lady.  Come 
in,  lady,  and  see  the  handsomest  woman  of  her 
size  in  the  world — tips  the  beam  at  six  hunderd 
pounds ! " 

Lloyd  was  deaf  to  it  all.  He  was  still  revolving 
the  situation,  which  was  by  no  means  devoid  of 
danger  to  him.  Should  the  foolhardy  enterprise 
of  the  moonshiners  reveal  their  infringement  of  the 

129 


The  Windfall 

law  and  bring  down  disaster,  which  could  only  end 
in  a  Federal  prison,  he  might  well  be  involved  on 
the  suspicion  of  connivance  and  profit-sharing. 
The  truth  was  that  the  financial  prospect  of  the 
Fair  must  have  been  greatly  ameliorated  by  the 
depot  of  liquid  refreshment  established  on  its  out- 
skirts. He  had  not  earlier  been  able  to  understand 
the  crowd's  reinforcement  in  point  of  numbers  as 
the  day  had  worn  on.  He  remembered,  with  a 
sort  of  helpless  astonishment  at  the  toils  of  the 
circumstances  as  they  began  to  enmesh  him,  how 
public  he  had  permitted  to  be  the  fact  of  his  ac- 
quaintance with  these  people;  the  glowing  adver- 
tisements of  the  "  song-and-dance  turn  "  of  Sha- 
drach  Pinnott's  daughter,  which  in  themselves  must 
have  been  ample  intimation  to  the  initiated  that 
there  was  something  else  to  be  found  at  the  Street 
Fair  as  alluring  as  youth  and  beauty;  the  courtesies 
that  he  had  shown  the  family  as  recognition  in 
some  sort  of  the  very  questionable  value  of  her 
performance. 

He  had  realised  that  it  was  in  itself  a  sort  of 
exhibition,  at  which  he  had  himself  been  able  to 
laugh  in  the  lightness  of  his  heart — he  had  thought 
it  a  very  heavy  heart  then,  so  unprescient  had  he 
been  of  worse  troubles  to  come, — when  he  had 
made  the  tour  of  the  show  with  the  venerable  Mrs. 
Pinnott  on  his  arm,  and  they  had  gone  up  in  the 
Ferris  Wheel  together.  All  the  crowd  below  had 
laughed  and  guyed  the  twain,  as  the  mingled  fright 
and  ecstasy  of  the  ancient  dame  sounded  on  the 

130 


The  Windfall 

air  while  she  swayed  aloft  and  clutched  her  youth- 
ful cavalier  with  a  grip  of  steel.  Now  and  again 
the  listening  wights  were  convulsed  with  merriment 
at  her  pertinent  remarks,  charged  with  a  pungent 
old-fashioned  native  wit,  and,  when  once  more  on 
solid  ground,  the  rough  but  good-natured  crowd 
had  given  a  rousing  cheer  for  "  May  and  Decem- 
ber." It  was  hardly  possible  that  any  ascent  could 
be  more  public. 

He  was  taking  himself  to  task  now  for  his  plas- 
tic folly.  He  said  to  himself  that  he  did  not  know 
any  other  man  who  would  have  been  guilty  of  it. 
The  indifference  of  other  men,  their  surly  self- 
centred  natures,  their  aversion  to  ridicule,  their 
sense  of  the  value  of  their  own  time  in  rest,  if 
duty  did  not  absorb  it,  in  the  luxury  of  waste,  if 
no  dissipation  entrenched  upon  it — all  would  have 
protected  other  men  from  a  situation  which  had 
as  a  sequence  menace  so  serious.  Other  men  might 
have  found  a  lure  in  the  girl's  beauty  and  thus 
involved  themselves  in  a  troublous  association.  It 
was  only  he,  however,  who  would  interest  himself 
in  the  enjoyment  of  a  funny  old  crone,  by  giving 
her  a  ride  on  the  Ferris  Wheel  and  a  sight  of  all 
the  wonders  of  the  show,  sinking  his  individuality 
out  of  sight,  and  laughing  himself  at  the  crowd's 
ridicule  of  the  incongruity  of  the  companions.  It 
was  no  unselfishness,  he  told  himself  grimly.  He 
found  his  own  happiness  in  such  ill-advised  bene- 
factions. And  this  fad,  that  had  seemed  so  simple, 
so  natural,  had  developed  a  curiously  resilient  blow. 

131 


The  Windfall 

He  could  well  understand  now  why  the  men  of  the 
family  had  no  interest  concerning  the  details  of 
the  show,  and  manifested  no  filial  disposition  that 
her  narrow,  restricted  life  should  be  enriched  with 
the  sights  and  sounds  that  were  so  much  to  her 
wondering  simplicity.  Overpowered  by  all  they 
had  at  stake  in  their  venturesome  pursuit  of  their 
vocation,  in  defiance  of  imminent  discovery  and  the 
penalties  of  a  long  term  of  imprisonment,  they  had 
neither  time  nor  thought  for  such  trivialities  as 
making  for  her  behoof  the  tour  of  the  Fair. 

If  a  disastrous  suspicion  of  complicity  in  their 
enterprise  on  the  part  of  the  management  of  the 
Carnival  should  be  entertained  by  the  revenue 
authorities  it  would  wreck  the  individuals  of  the 
combination  beyond  all  help  or  redemption,  Lloyd 
reflected.  They  were  strangers,  poor  personally, 
and  as  a  company  on  the  verge  of  financial  collapse. 
Suspicion  would  mean  for  them  arrest,  the  jail, 
utter  ruin,  for  there  was  no  possibility  of  bail-bonds 
for  stranded  mountebanks  in  a  remote  and  un- 
familiar region. 

Lloyd  staggered  under  a  sense  of  responsibility. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  find  Haxon,  and  in  the 
confidential  relations  of  mutual  interest  seek  some 
surcease  for  the  terrors  that  had  fallen  upon  him 
with  fangs  that  were  rending  and  gnawing  at  his 
consciousness.  Then  he  checked  himself.  No 
change  of  plan  could  be  speedily  compassed.  An 
itinerant  show  is  an  unwieldy  device.  It  was  ob- 
vious policy  that  the  Carnival  should  continue  the 

132 


The  Windfall 

next  day  without  any  deviation  of  plan,  until  the 
matter  could  be  canvassed  and  some  decision 
reached.  Haxon's  nerve  must  not  be  shaken. 
His  diurnal  feat,  his  "  high  dive,"  was  billed  for 
the  morning,  and  a  suggestion  freighted  with  such 
momentous  possibilities  would  doubtless  affect  his 
self-control,  his  physical  poise,  and  cost  him  his 
life.  A  frightful  fate  waited  on  a  false  step, 
a  trifling  miscalculation  of  distance.  Lloyd  shud- 
dered at  the  thought.  He  had  seen  Haxon  earlier 
in  the  evening,  and  had  marked  with  a  sense  of 
gratulation  the  restoration  of  the  spirits  of  the 
acrobat.  The  improved  business  of  the  show,  as 
the  day  wore  on,  had  revived  Haxon's  hopes. 
The  company  might  yet  pull  through,  he  thought, 
making  current  expenses  and  transportation.  This 
was  the  first  day,  and  though  he  could  not  discern 
whence  the  patrons  for  the  rest  of  the  week  were 
to  come,  he  found  a  degree  of  solace  in  the  pro- 
pitious present,  the  jollity  of  the  aspect  of  the 
square,  the  flaring  lights,  the  enthusiastic  crowds, 
and  all  the  "  turns  "  were  at  their  best. 

With  a  sigh  Lloyd  felt  that  he  must  broaden 
his  back  to  the  burden.  He  could  carry  this 
weighty  secret  without  a  sign  till  high  noon  to- 
morrow, surely.  He  drew  out  his  silver  watch 
and  consulted  its  dial — he  wondered  would  the 
course  of  events  change  before  twelve  hours  should 
pass.  Still  Haxon  must  not  know — the  routine 
could  not  be  altered  without  suspicion.  Lloyd 
had  a  keen,  intelligent  power  to  appraise  cause  and 

133! 


The  Windfall 

event,  and  he  had  already  noted  the  sudden  fierce 
temper  of  rural  crowds.  He  intuitively  knew  that 
the  public  here  could  not  be  balked  of  its  sensation 
with  the  proffered  return  of  the  money  at  the  door, 
like  a  metropolitan  audience,  even  if  it  were  prac- 
ticable. But  Haxon's  turn  was  a  free  show.  It 
was  already  the  inalienable  property  of  the  public. 
A  riot  might  ensue,  and  in  any  disturbance  disas- 
trous facts  might  be  elicited  and  precipitate  the 
dangers  he  feared.  Haxon  must  not  know.  The 
crowd  must  be  kept  satisfied,  and  as  quiet  and 
orderly  as  possible  until  the  leap  for  life  was  made. 

Suddenly  Lloyd's  heart  sank  as  he  wondered 
why  the  municipal  authorities  had  not  interfered 
to  seek  the  source  of  the  inebriation  of  the  drunken 
men  on  the  streets  of  this  dry  town.  Surely  they 
could  not  be  suspected  of  standing  in  with  the  liquor 
dealers,  or  were  they  even  now  laying  their  plans, 
spreading  their  snares,  waiting  for  the  coming  of 
the  revenue  force,  already  summoned,  for  there 
were  rewards  of  not  despicable  sums  for  the 
informer. 

He  was  about  to  start  toward  the  hotel,  still 
lingering  in  front  of  the  drug  store  at  the  corner 
of  the  intersection  of  one  of  the  streets  with  the 
square,  and  he  became  all  at  once  aware  of  a  covert 
watchful  gaze,  that  had  been  fixed  on  him  so  long, 
with  such  complete  immunity  by  reason  of  his 
mental  absorption  hitherto,  that  his  abrupt  turn 
surprised  and  caught  it.  The  look  came  from  a 
pair  of  dark,  bright  eyes,  under  the  flapping  brim 

134 


The  Windfall 

of  an  old  white  hat,  shown  in  the  flare  from  the 
windows  of  the  drug  store — young  eyes,  to  his 
astonishment,  for  he  had  fancied  that  it  was 
an  old  lame  man  in  the  miller's  garb,  who  had 
"  shadowed  "  him  to  the  Pinnott  encampment  to- 
day. He  could  not  be  sure  of  the  incongruity,  for 
the  man  turned  his  head  instantly,  and  the  mo- 
mentary impression  was  lost  in  the  turmoil  of 
anxiety,  of  eager  thought,  of  perplexed  fears  that 
filled  the  brain  of  the  manager  of  the  joyous 
"  carnival." 

When  one  by  one  the  lights  of  the  Street  Fair 
went  out,  when  the  town  was  dark  save  for  the 
corner  lamps  at  long  intervals,  when  the  crowds 
had  vanished  and  the  itinerants  had  repaired  to 
the  little  hotel  which  harboured  the  better  paid, 
or  the  boarding-houses  where  the  underlings  found 
refuge,  except  indeed  the  "  freaks,"  who  from  mo- 
tives of  privacy,  so  essential  to  their  trade,  never 
left  their  several  tents,  Lloyd  tossed  to  and  fro  on 
his  sleepless  pillow  and  canvassed  anew  within  him- 
self the  situation,  and  calculated  again  the  prob- 
lems of  the  expense  accounts  and  the  gate  receipts 
and  the  transportation,  and  wondered  if  he  had  de- 
cided wisely,  and  then  listened  warily  to  the  breath- 
ing of  Haxon,  in  his  bed  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  room,  lest  the  tumult  of  his  wild  thoughts 
might  have  boisterously  wakened  the  acrobat  and 
defrauded  him  of  his  night's  rest. 


*2>S 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  morning  brought  no  change  in  the 
situation.  The  sun  came  grandly  up 
from  over  the  blue  and  misty  mountains, 
with  a  train  of  iridescent  and  shimmering  vapours, 
and  a  splendid  pageant  of  clouds,  bedecked  in  red 
and  gold  and  purple,  with  scintillating  fleckings 
of  jewel-like  brilliancy.  These  were  gone,  eva- 
nescent, before  the  dew  was  off  the  grass  that  grew 
all  along  the  sides  of  the  streets,  and  the  sky  was 
densely  blue,  poised  high,  high  above  the  lofty 
mountain  ranges,  tiers  on  tiers,  that  climbed  against 
it  as  if  seeking  to  reach  these  spheres  of  empyreal 
height.  The  sunshine  was  infinitely  clear  and 
crystalline.  The  soft  wind  had  an  exquisite  fresh- 
ness and  a  balsamic  tang  that  the  lungs  expanded 
to  meet  involuntarily  as  if  an  instinct  recognised 
its  balm  of  healing. 

The  breakfast  of  the  little  rural  hotel,  of  that 
peculiar  excellence  and  generous  abundance  that 
so  often  characterise  the  hostelries  in  these  out- 
of-the-way  places  of  the  South,  put  new  heart  into 
Lloyd,  and  his  hopes  were  recruited  as  he  went  out 
into  the  verandah  of  the  hotel  lighting  his  cigar 
and  beholding  with  benign  complacence  the  array 
of  the  Street  Fair — the  tents,  the  great  circumfer- 
ence  of  the   Ferris   wheel,   with   the   mountains 

136 


The  Windfall 

framed  within  its  periphery,  the  merry-go-round, 
still  motionless  and  vacant  as  if  the  dummy  horses 
had  just  waked  up,  the  humbler  employees  going 
hither  and  thither,  on  their  various  duties,  getting 
ready  for  the  day.  He  did  not  say  a  word,  for 
Haxon's  mood  was  so  uncertain  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  know  how  any  casual  phrase  might  affect 
him.     Haxon  himself  spoke  first. 

"  I  suppose  I  look  at  that  mast  every  morning 
with  the  same  feeling  that  a  condemned  criminal 
has  for  his  first  glimpse  of  the  gallows,"  he  said 
bitterly. 

Lloyd  paused  to  throw  away  the  match  with 
which  he  had  lighted  his  cigar.  "  Gammon!  "  he 
exclaimed,  contemptuously.  "  You  couldn't  be 
persuaded  to  cut  out  that  stunt  of  yours  if  I  begged 
you  for  a  month."  The  acrobat's  brow  cleared, 
and  Lloyd  breathed  more  freely.  He  had  by  lucky 
chance  said  exactly  what  Haxon  desired  to  hear. 
He  wished  to  feel  that  he  acted  by  his  own  free 
choice — that  he  was  not  coerced  because  the  hour 
was  set,  the  feat  advertised,  and  the  public  waited. 

The  morning  was  never  characterised  by  special 
activity  in  the  Street  Fair.  The  world  had  all  its 
insistent  duties,  contending  with  the  delights  of 
sight-seeing.  Breakfast  was  to  be  discussed,  stores 
opened,  the  municipal  court  sessions  to  be  held, 
the  mail  to  be  distributed,  and  only  gradually  did 
spectators  begin  to  gather  in  the  streets,  and  the 
spielers  to  take  their  stand. 

"  Only  an  hour,  now, — an  hour  of  life,"  said 
137 


The  Windfall 

Haxon,  as  the  clock  in  the  courthouse  tower 
clanged  out  its  tale  of  strokes;  "  when  another  hour 
strikes  I  may  be  in  hell." 

Lloyd  burst  out  laughing.  "  Seem  to  under- 
stand your  own  deserts !  "  he  cried  with  a  joyous 
inflection. 

And  once  more  Haxon  smiled  responsive. 

Lloyd  could  not  forbear  a  sigh  of  relief,  and 
catching  his  breath  it  was  metamorphosed  into  a 
spurious  yawn,  so  fearful  was  he  of  shaking  his 
confrere's  poise. 

The  next  moment  Haxon  had  forgotten  his  cold 
fit  of  disinclination  in  sudden  overwhelming  curi- 
osity. From  one  of  the  intersecting  streets  there 
rolled  into  the  square  one  of  those  vehicles  of  the 
region  denominated  "  hacks,"  strong,  light,  .fur- 
nished with  a  canopy  and  with  curtains  for  falling 
weather,  and  with  a  brake,  regulated  by  the  driver's 
foot,  which  the  steep  slants  of  the  mountain  roads 
rendered  imperatively  necessary.  It  was  drawn 
by  two  strong,  well-fed,  speedy  horses,  caparisoned 
with  good  stout  harness,  and  gay  with  red  tassels 
dangling  at  their  heads.  It  had  three  seats,  and 
a  boot  for  trunks,  and  it  could  hold  comfortably 
nine  persons.  There  were  only  five  passengers, 
however,  and  the  driver  headed  straight  for  the 
hotel. 

The  two  showmen  watched  without  a  word  the 
commotion  of  the  arrival;  the  porter  ran  forth 
with  a  grin  of  delighted  recognition;  the  clerk  at 
the  desk  threw  down  his  pen  and  issued  precipi- 

138 


The  Windfall 

tately  on  the  verandah ;  nay,  the  Boniface,  himself, 
outstripped  the  underling's  speed  and  opened  the 
door  of  the  hack,  smiling  benignly  with  the  dignity 
of  a  portly,  affable  man,  and  with  so  obvious  a 
pleasure  that  it  might  seem  that  he  ran  an  hotel 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing. 

"  Here  we  are  again,  Mr.  Benson,"  a  lady  of 
perhaps  forty-five  years  of  age  said  agreeably, 
while  Mr.  Benson's  bald  head  shone  in  the  sun, 
and  his  slippered  feet  shuffled  to  and  fro  as  he 
sought  to  offer  her  the  most  efficient  assistance  in 
alighting  from  the  high-swung  vehicle. 

"  Mighty  glad  to  see  you  all  again — fine 
weather  for  an  outing,"  he  asseverated,  still  all 
bland,  blond  smiles. 

The  lady  was  of  a  slender  type,  ostentatiously 
simple,  with  a  black  taffeta  skirt  and  a  "  white 
handkerchief  linen  "  blouse,  speckless,  perfect,  ab- 
solutely plain,  with  large  plaits  or  tucks,  and  a 
broad  black  belt  with  a  big  steel  buckle  in  the  back. 
Her  large  black  hat  partly  shaded  a  fair,  faded 
oval  face  with  a  crown  of  blond  hair,  the  sheen 
of  which  was  fairly  quenched  by  time;  she  wore 
a  mere  thread  of  a  filigree  gold  necklace  about  her 
high  collar  and  on  the  wrist  of  one  of  her  delicate, 
transparent,  thin  hands,  which  was  without  her 
black  silk  glove,  a  narrow  gold  bracelet  with  a 
bangle  dangled. 

Two  young  men  had  leaped  out  of  the  vehicle 
on  the  other  side,  while  still  seated,  looking  about 
them  for  gloves,  bags,  and  small  sundries,  were 

139 


The  Windfall 

two  young  ladies  whose  appearance  made  no  pre- 
tensions whatever  to  simplicity.  Both  were  arrayed 
in  the  height  of  the  mode,  in  white  embroidered 
linen  suits,  one  made  with  a  natty  short  jacket,  the 
other  with  a  stylish  long  coat;  their  white  lingerie 
hats  were  tilted  forward,  and  the  embroidered  frills 
gave  scant  view  of  aught  but  fair  and  delicately 
flushed  cheeks,  while  at  the  back  of  their  heads 
their  redundant  tresses  of  brown  and  gold  showed 
in  soft  heavy  puffs. 

"  We  are  simply  perishing  at  New  Helvetia," 
the  eldest  lady  confided  to  Mr.  Benson,  "  for  the 
lack  of  something  to  do  or  say,  or  see,  and  we 
heard  that  down  here  in  the  '  flat  woods  '  you 
have  evolved  a  Circus,  or  Street  Fair,  or  Carnival 
or  something,  and  it  has  saved  our  lives,  Mr.  Ben- 
son. Don't  tell  us  that  you  are  overcrowded  and 
can't  take  us  in,  for  we  don't  want  to  stay  over 
night.  You  can  feed  the  hungry,  surely,  Mr. 
Benson." 

"  Indeed,    madam,  we  can  always  do  that." 

"  To  perfection,"  the  lady  protested,  and  Mr. 
Benson  bowed  and  blushed  with  pleasure,  flattered 
as  well  he  might  be. 

They  were  all  speedily  housed;  the  flutter  of 
skirts,  the  swift  tread  of  soft,  pliant,  well-made 
boots,  and  they  had  disappeared.  As  the  team  of 
the  hack  trotted  off  to  the  stables  Haxon  beckoned 
to  the  negro  porter. 

There  is  something  very  pervasive,  coercive, 
permeating    in    the    influence    of    cultivation,    of 

140 


The  Windfall 

fashion,  of  station  in  the  world  of  wealth.  It  had 
never  occurred  to  Lloyd,  so  little  was  he  brought 
in  contact  with  this  element,  to  gauge  the  lack  of 
refinement  in  Haxon's  endowments  or  manners 
till  he  placed  himself  in  contrast  with  the  new- 
comers. 

"Who  are  them  guys?"  Haxon  asked  of  the 
porter. 

The  method  of  address  obviously  embarrassed 
the  servant.  It  seemed  derogatory  to  the  high 
estate  of  these  great  ones  of  the  earth  whom  he 
had  rejoiced  to  serve  in  their  sudden  comings  and 
goings.  To  answer  a  question  which  described 
them  as  "  guys  "  was  in  itself  an  indignity.  But 
he  swallowed  the  affront  and  replied  succinctly — 
"  They  are  some  of  the  guests  what's  been  stayin' 
at  the  New  Helveshy  Springs  in  the  mountings, 
sah." 

"  Thought  the  springs  were  closed  by  this  time," 
Lloyd  remarked,  and  the  servant  apprehending  the 
observation  as  applicable  to  business  interests  rather 
than  actuated  by  mere  curiosity,  replied  with  a 
placated  mien,  "  Jes'  a  few  stayin'  on,  sah — feared 
ter  go  home  till  frost,  'count  of  de  yaller  fever 
whar  dey  live  in  Mobile  or  New  Orleans  or  some 
o'  dem  Southern  cities.  Dey  got  nuthin'  ter  'muse 
dem  at  New  Helveshy — even  de  band's  gone, — 
an'  dey  drive  down  'ere  wunst  in  a  while."  He 
lingered  for  a  moment,  for  the  satisfaction  of  pos- 
sible further  queries,  but  none  came  and  he  betook 
himself  within. 

141 


The  Windfall 

Lloyd  looked  with  anxious  doubt  at  the  brow 
of  Haxon,  seeking  to  discern  and  gauge  his  senti- 
ment, so  slight  an  irritant  might  now  disturb  the 
precarious  poise  of  his  equilibrium.  But  Haxon 
merely  remarked  with  a  sigh,  "  I  wish  they  were 
five  hundred  instead  of  five." 

"  Well,  there's  one  comfort,"  said  Lloyd,  "  the 
show  couldn't  be  any  better  if  they  were  five  hun- 
dred instead  of  five." 

He  had  struck  the  wrong  note  and  the  discord 
jangled  instantly. 

"  Well,  the  railroads  don't  haul  folks  on  their 
merits,"  the  acrobat  rejoined  acridly.  "  It  makes 
mighty  little  difference  in  this  cursed  hole  whether 
the  show  is  good  or  bad,  if  there  ain't  nobody  to 
see  it.  I  believe  you  are  ambitious  of  playin'  to 
a  cent  and  a  half  a  day." 

The  roseate  flush  on  Lloyd's  girlish  cheek  deep- 
ened, but  it  was  one  of  the  slow  tortures  privileged 
to  rack  his  soul  in  these  days  of  stress  that  he  was 
debarred  the  natural  vent  of  anger.  He  could 
not  retort,  in  sheer  humanity  he  could  not  flame  out 
in  petulance  at  the  man  whose  life  was  to  be  placed 
in  most  hideous  jeopardy  in  half  an  hour,  balanced 
on  the  flicker  of  an  eyelash,  lost  in  a  momentary 
quiver  of  the  nerves.  But  Lloyd  truly  felt  that  his 
trials  increased  in  a  regular  ratio  with  the  demon- 
stration of  his  capacity  to  sustain  them.  Sometimes 
he  thought  that  a  sudden  sarcasm,  an  outbreak 
of  the  vexation  that  stirred  him  might  overawe 
Haxon,  elicit  his  self-control,  and  serve  really  to 

142 


The  Windfall 

steady  his  nerves.  It  was  not  an  experiment  which 
he  was  willing  to  try  at  another's  cost.  He  braced 
his  own  nerves  for  endurance  therefore,  and  taxed 
his  capacity  for  expedients. 

"  Oh,  hush,"  he  said,  with  affected  roughness. 
M  You  are  out  of  your  contract  now.  You  don't 
know  anything  about  the  receipts  yesterday — it's 
all  up  to  me.  You  are  agreed  to  take  no  share  in 
business  till  you've  done  your  leap  for  the  day. 
Then  we'll  strike  the  balance." 

A  slow  smile  was  dawning  in  the  acrobat's  eyes. 
Business  must  have  been  better  than  he  had  feared. 
It  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  number  of  an  ever- 
shifting  crowd.  He  had  placed  himself  under  this 
restriction  that  he  might  have  the  less  strain 
to  preserve  his  calmness  of  mind  before  his  leap 
for  life. 

Suddenly  there  issued  from  the  door  of  the 
hotel  the  two  young  men  who  had  accompanied 
the  ladies  from  the  New  Helvetia  Springs.  They 
had  lighted  their  cigars,  having  been  debarred  that 
luxury,  possibly,  on  the  drive.  They  drew  up  two 
of  the  many  vacant  chairs  that  stood  on  the  ver- 
andah and  seated  themselves  near  the  railing. 

"  I  like  nothing  better  than  an  old-fashioned 
el  Principe"  the  elder  was  saying.  "  It  gives  a 
good  clean  mild  smoke.  You  ought  to  smoke 
nothing,  though,  at  your  age ;  your  training  will  go 
hard  with  you  this  fall  if  you  saturate  your  system 
with  strong  tobacco, — then  have  to  leave  off 
suddenly." 

143 


The  Windfall 

It  was  less  the  obvious  truism  than  the  profes- 
sional word  "  training  "  that  caught  the  showmen's 
attention.  They  looked  with  keen  interest  at  the 
newcomers.  One  was  much  the  younger — a  tall, 
blond  youth,  well-built  and  muscular,  twenty  years 
of  age  perhaps,  fresh,  alert,  perfectly  groomed, 
glowing  with  health  and  bright-eyed  vigour.  The 
other  had  an  air  of  much  distinction.  He  was 
fully  thirty-five,  with  clear-cut,  delicate  features, 
an  intellectual  face,  but  with  a  languid  eye;  he  was 
tall,  exceedingly  thin,  and  very  elaborately  and  pre- 
cisely dressed  in  the  height  of  the  fashion  of  the 
day.  Both  wore  suits  of  light  wool,  so  nearly 
white  that  the  faint  flecking  of  brown  in  one  and 
the  broken  "  shadow  check  "  in  the  other  scarcely 
impinged  on  the  cream  effect.  Even  their  shoes 
were  white.  The  younger  had  a  straw  hat  of  a 
natty  sailor  shape,  while  the  elder  wore  a  Panama 
hat,  and  as  he  lifted  it,  laying  it  on  the  broad  rail 
of  the  banisters,  baring  his  brow  to  the  refresh- 
ing breeze,  it  became  evident  that  his  short  brown 
hair  was  growing  sparse  at  the  temples  and  a  tiny 
thin  space  on  the  top  of  his  well-shaped  head 
threatened  a  baldness  within  the  next  few  years. 
Both  were  of  fair  complexion  and  clean-shaven, 
and  that  feature  the  most  expressive  of  character 
in  a  man's  face,  the  mouth,  showed  without  reserve; 
it  was  of  firm  lines  in  the  elder,  with  a  suggestion 
of  uttering  not  too  many  nor  too  lightly  considered 
words,  the  mouth  of  a  man  who  was  capable  of 
self-control,  and  had  had  more  occasion  for  this 

144 


The  Windfall 

quality  than  seemed  consonant  with  the  sybaritic 
conditions  of  his  apparent  estate  in  life.  The  lips 
of  the  youth  had  joyous  intimations — red,  elastic, 
smiling,  now  widening  in  a  grin  of  most  exuberant 
mockery  as — to  be  rid  perchance  of  the  nicotian 
lecture — he  caught  up  one  of  the  handbills  of  the 
Carnival,  which  were  flying  about  the  town,  and 
his  eye  fell  on  an  item  which  titillated  his  sense  of 
humour. 

"Oh,  say,  Jardine,  ain't  this  rich?"  and  he 
read  chucklingly,  "  l  Captain  Ollory  of  the  Royal 
Navy,  the  greatest  high  dive  artist  in  the  world, 
will  give  a  free  exhibition  of  his  wonderful 
performance  daily." 

The  other  smiled  with  languid  amusement. 
"  '  The  Royal  Navy?  ' — let's  see,"  and  sticking  his 
cigar  between  his  teeth  he  held  out  his  hand  for 
the  flimsy  sheet.  Lloyd  felt  the  blood  flare  into 
his  face  as  he  watched  the  eyes  of  this  pam- 
pered worldling  travel,  illumined  with  lazy  laugh- 
ter, along  the  lines  of  the  bill  which  he  had  written 
with  such  eager  hope  and  thoughtful  care,  and  of 
which  he  had  been  so  proud  until  this  moment  of 
subtle  disillusionment. 

"  Doesn't  say  what  Royal  Navy,"  Jardine  sug- 
gested languidly. 

"  Nor  how  Captain  Ollory — isn't  that  a  de- 
licious name? — happens  to  cease  to  sail  the  seas  to 
dive  on  dry  land  for  the  admiration  of  the  denizens 
of  Colbury  and  the  purlieus  of  Kildeer  County. 
Isn't  it  great?  "  and  once  more  the  mobile  lips 

145, 


The  Windfall 

of  the  youth  distended  with  a  grimace  of  delighted 
mockery. 

A  sudden  rustle  within  the  hall  and  the  three 
ladies,  fortified  by  a  delicate  lunch  of  a  sandwich 
and  a  cup  of  tea  after  their  early  morning  drive 
in  the  mountains,  enough  to  refresh  them,  but 
nicely  calculated  not  to  take  off  the  edge  of  their 
appetite  for  the  one  o'clock  dinner,  issued  forth 
to  witness  the  wonders  of  the  Street  Fair,  laugh- 
ing at  themselves  and  at  each  other  that  idleness 
and  vacuity  in  the  dreary  interval  of  waiting  in 
the  mountains  for  frost  could  reduce  them  to  such 
a  kill-time  expedient  as  this. 

The  younger  gentleman  could  not  forbear  his 
gibes.  "  I  have  got  to  recoup  myself  for  not 
having  been  in  Paris  with  you  and  Sister  in  June," 
he  said  to  one  of  the  young  ladies.  "  But  I  should 
really  think  you  would  have  had  enough  of  sight- 
seeing for  one  season." 

"  I'm  sure  I'll  see  things  here  that  never  could 
be  found  in  Paris,"  she  replied  carelessly. 

The  words  were  trifling,  but  the  voice,  so  beau- 
tifully modulated,  thrilled  Lloyd;  it  was  so  sym- 
pathetic of  quality,  to  use  a  phrase  that  can  but 
slightly  suggest  the  subtle  charm  it  seeks  to  ex- 
press; the  very  inflection  was  replete  with  indi- 
viduality— it  was  a  voice,  an  accent  altogether  new 
to  his  experience.  He  lifted  his  eyes  wistfully 
toward  the  group. 

The  sunlight  struck  with  refulgent  radiance  on 
the  dense  white  linen  attire  of  the  two  younger 

146 


The  Windfall 

ladies;  they  were  expanding  their  white  parasols,  of 
embroidered  linen  like  their  dresses,  this  being  the 
fad  of  the  hour,  and  in  the  intense  light  thus 
focussed  the  contour  and  tints  of  their  faces  were 
asserted  with  a  distinctness  which  the  momentary 
glimpse  could  scarcely  have  given  otherwise.  Both 
were  evidently  very  young,  eighteen  or  twenty 
years  of  age;  one  was  all  fair  blonde  prettiness, 
with  roseate  cheeks,  and  soft  pink  lips,  with  blue 
eyes  and  golden  hair.  The  face  of  the  other  was 
exquisitely  fair,  but  had  no  trace  of  roses,  though 
her  delicate  lips  were  of  a  carmine  red;  her  soft 
redundant  hair  was  of  a  pale,  lustreless  brown ;  her 
eyes,  of  a  luminous  dark  grey  hue,  were  long 
rather  than  large,  with  long  dense  black  eyelashes 
and  black  arched  eyebrows,  and  as  they  caught  his 
glance  a  deep  gravity  fell  upon  them.  They  held 
a  look  of  recognition  in  that  momentous  gaze. 
The  laugh  died  out  of  her  face — it  was  a  look 
as  if  from  another  world,  another  sphere  of  exist- 
ence; she  might  have  been  a  being  of  another  order 
of  creation,  so  different  she  was  from  aught 
else  that  he  had  ever  seen;  her  eyes  seemed  im- 
mortal, like  the  eyes  of  a  spirit;  they  searched  the 
depths  of  his  soul — in  that  moment  he  knew  that 
she  saw  him  as  he  was. 

It  was  only  for  a  moment,  however;  an  inap- 
preciable interval  of  time — the  next,  she  was  all 
smiling  ridicule  of  the  Street  Fair,  of  herself  and 
her  friends  for  stooping  to  glean  amusement  and 
excitement  in  such  humble  and  inadequate  wise. 

J47. 


The  Windfall 

The  tread  of  their  white  shoes  carried  them 
swiftly  down  the  steps  of  the  verandah,  and  with 
the  younger  of  the  two  men  they  took  the  lead, 
while  their  chaperon  followed  with  Jardine,  one  of 
her  gloved  hands  holding  the  back  breadths  of  her 
black  taffeta  skirt  to  one  side,  and  impressing  the 
calico  dames  of  Persimmon  Cove,  gazing  after 
her,  with  their  first  idea  of  the  possibility  of  the 
survival  into  middle  life  of  the  comely,  the  grace- 
ful, and  the  elegant. 

As  the  group  disappeared,  or  rather  as  their 
presence  among  the  ever-shifting  crowd  was  only 
to  be  discerned  by  the  glister  of  the  sun  upon  the 
white  parasols,  Lloyd's  attention  returned  so  reluc- 
tantly to  the  interests  of  the  present  that  he  had 
a  sense  as  if  he  had  suffered  a  lapse  of  conscious- 
ness or  was  but  awakened  from  the  bewilderments 
of  a  dream.  A  vague  forlornness  waited  on  the 
moment.  But  as  his  eyes  suddenly  encountered 
Haxon's  a  full  realisation  of  the  exigencies  of  the 
situation  took  hold  upon  him.  Haxon's  round 
face  was  dully  red;  all  the  blood  had  rushed  to  his 
head  and  was  pounding  at  his  temples;  he  was  in 
sudden  wrath,  and  the  drops  of  perspiration  stood 
on  his  forehead  and  bedewed  his  upper  lip;  his 
neck  looked  thick  and  swollen  and  bulged  in  folds 
above  his  decent  white  collar  that  gave  imminent 
signs  of  wilting.  His  small  brown  eyes  flashed 
and  he  looked  at  Lloyd  with  a  rancour  that  im- 
puted a  share  of  blame. 

"  Well, — here's  a  go !  "  he  said,  indignantly. 
148 


The  Windfall 

Once  more  Lloyd  spurred  up  his  jaded  resources. 

"What? — when? — how?"  he  asked,  as  if  sur- 
prised. 

"  You  know  you  heard  them  jays "  Haxon 

paused,  fairly  sputtering  in  his  indignation,  "  guy- 
ing me  an'  the  Royal  Navy  an'  the  whole  biz. 
Why  n't  you  speak  up?  " 

"  I — what  could  I  say?  " 

"  Why,  you  could  ha'  stopped  their  mouths — > 
you  could  ha'  told  them  they  need  n't  stick  their 
faces  in  it — that  I  was  a  better  man,  navy  or  no 
navy,  than  either  o'  them — you  could  ha'  told 
them  that  they  were  both  bug-house,  an'  they  are, 
— you  could  ha'  knocked  them  both  down  with  one 
hand,  and  rolled  them  up  together,  and  dropped 
them  over  the  side  of  the  porch.  If  it  had  n't 
been  so  close  on  to  the  time  for  the  dive  and  the 
tussle  might  ha'  shook  my  nerve  I'd  ha'  done  it 
myself." 

Lloyd  looked  at  him  with  an  infinite  compas- 
sion, as  he  thus  worked  himself  into  a  red-hot  rage. 
The  subjection  in  which  Haxon  must  needs  hold 
himself  to  the  Moloch-like  feat  that  so  jeopardised 
his  life,  yet  by  which  he  lived  indeed,  had  hardly 
less  constraint  for  his  confrere  who  so  felt  for  his 
plight.  Doubtless  it  was  this  which  so  sharpened 
Lloyd's  acute  expedients. 

"  Why,  I  wouldn't  have  touched  them  for  the 
world,"  he  declared,  and  as  Haxon  gazed  at  him 
speechlessly,  and  curiously,  "  they  had  no  idea  who 
you  are." 

149 


The  Windfall 

Haxon  could  only  lift  the  handbill  and  point 
at  the  significant  words  "  Captain  Ollory — Royal 
Navy — High  Dive;  "  he  did  not  utter  a  syllable. 

"  Well,  you  ain't  labelled — are  you?  You  ain't 
got  a  tag  marked  '  Captain  Ollory '  tacked  on 
to  you  anywheres  that  I  can  see.  They  never 
dreamed  it  was  you — else  they  wouldn't  have  said 
a  word.     They  ain't  a  rude  sort." 

Haxon  took  this  in  doubtfully,  his  breath  still 
fast,  his  face  still  scarlet  and  dripping.  "  I  don't 
know  about  that,"  he  averred,  the  insults  to  the 
name  and  the  feat  he  represented  still  rankling 
deep. 

"  I  know  they  never  dreamed  it — nobody  would 
ever  take  you  for  a  showman  in  this  world.  You 
look  like  something  in  the  heavy  commercial  line." 

Haxon  drew  a  long  breath ;  he  had  a  sense  that 
this  was  true,  and  as  the  hour  for  his  ordeal  was 
drawing  so  near  he  would  fain  calm  himself  with 
the  realisation  that  there  had  been  no  insult  to 
be  resented. 

"  You  are  the  image  of  a  drummer  of  the  heavy 
wholesale  lay,  white  goods  salesman,  I  should  say. 
I  don't  know  what  /  look  like,"  Lloyd  declared, 
"  but  I  am  sure  they  never  took  you  for  a  show- 
man." 

Haxon  was  reassured.  He  began  to  reflect  that 
not  even  the  practised  eye  of  the  worldlings  could 
have  discerned  Lloyd's  vocation.  Haxon  thought 
indeed  that  Lloyd  looked  as  much  like  a  man  of 
a  high  social  grade  as  either  of  them,  though  not 

150 


The  Windfall 

so  smart.  He  would  not  have  said  this,  however; 
he  grudged  his  friend  the  satisfaction  of  this  flat- 
tering theory.  Yet  not  all  at  once  could  he  quit 
the  theme. 

"  But  what's  the  matter  with  the  Royal  Navy?  " 
he  plained. 

"  It's  all  right,"  Lloyd  declared. 

"  If  '  Captain  Ollory '  is  such  a  dead  give  away 
as  all  that,  why  did  you  let  it  go  on  the  bills?  I 
know  /  wanted  it — but  I  did  not  want  to  be  a 
laughing-stock  when  I  break  my  neck." 

"  Why,  Haxon,  I'm  sure  surprised  at  you — 
you've  bloomed  out  into  such  a  confounded  fool. 
Of  course  such  people  as  those  know  that  '  Captain 
Ollory '  is  a  stage  name,  and  the  '  Royal  Navy '  is 
to  make  the  country  folks  stare.  They  understand 
that  as  a  little  piece  of  business,  and  a  mighty  good 
little  piece  it  is,  too,  as  you  might  know  by  the 
way  they  laughed  at  it.  They  know  that  '  Cap- 
tain Ollory '  is  a  high-class  acrobat  whose  real 
name  doesn't  go  on  the  bills,  and  if  they  don't  know 
that  already  they  are  going  to  find  it  out  pretty 
damn  quick.  I'm  blamed  if  they  and  their  ladies 
ain't  pretty  considerable  astonished  when  they  see 
that  turn — it's  worth  forty  such  fairs,  and  they 
jolly  well  know  it." 

Haxon  had  lifted  his  head;  his  feathers  were 
gradually  smoothing  down. 

"  There's  the  band  now,  taking  up  their  posi- 
tions," Lloyd  admonished  the  acrobat. 

Both  men  gazed  down  into  the  square  where 

I51 


The  Windfall 

presently  the  glitter  of  polished  brazen  tubes 
caught  the  midday  sunshine  amongst  the  shifting 
groups  of  the  country  folk.  Suddenly  the  leader 
lifted  his  baton — there  was  a  double  ruffle  of  the 
drums,  then  the  wide  blare  of  the  horns  surged  out, 
and  the  illuminated  rare  air  pulsed  with  the  regular 
throb  of  the  tempo.  Haxon  precipitately  quitted 
the  verandah  to  assume  the  pink  satin  garments 
slashed  with  dark  red  and  the  pink  silk  tights 
in  which  "  Captain  Ollory  of  the  Royal  Navy  " 
plunged  down  from  the  giddy  heights  in  that 
"  high  dive  "  which  had  so  astonished  the  popula- 
tion of  Kildeer  County. 

The  summer  tourists,  seeking  amusement  in  the 
unaccustomed  paths  of  the  Street  Fair,  had  not 
prospered.  The  aspect  of  the  untutored  people 
from  the  mountains  and  coves  hard  by — the 
jostling,  unkempt,  jeans-clad  men,  the  slatternly 
women  with  snuff-brush  in  mouth  and  a  wailing 
infant  in  arms — so  preponderated  over  the  gen- 
teeler  element  of  the  town  that  the  latter  was 
almost  unnoted  and  ignored. 

"  Poor  humanity,"  Ruth  Laniston  exclaimed 
wearily;  "how  uncouth,  how  grotesque  it  seems 
when  so  near  to  nature's  heart." 

"  How  much  man  has  done  for  man,"  rejoined 
her  cousin,  Lucia  Laniston,  "  in  setting  and  fol- 
lowing the  fashions." 

"  Poor  humanity  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston, 
didactically,  bent  on  improving  the  opportunity. 
"How  can  you  take  so  superficial  a  view?     As 


The  Windfall 

a  mere  example  of  the  sensate  in  creation  think 
what  a  marvellous  motive  power  is  expressed  in 
that  woman — only  a  bundle  of  muscular  fibre,  but 
without  a  conscious  effort  she  moves  along  this 
pavement;  with  an  involuntary  impulse  she  sees 
every  item  of  that  garden  at  the  corner — and 
really  those  coleus  on  the  terrace  are  very  fine! — 
think  of  the  curious  cerebral  processes  of  her 
mental  organisation " 

"  And  then  think  of  the  curious  way  her  skirt  is 
cut,"  the  irreverent  daughter  laughed. 

Mrs.  Laniston  grew  squeamish  presently  and 
balked  at  the  idea,  of  seeing  the  "  freaks."  Her 
interest  in  "  poor  humanity  "  did  not  extend  be- 
yond the  normal — she  could  not  abide  to  view 
the  fat  lady,  nor  the  living  skeleton,  nor  the  wild 
man. 

"  You  ought  really  to  see  '  Wick-Zoo,'  "  her  son 
urged  her  with  a  twinkling  eye.  "  He  is  about  as 
wild  as  I  am." 

The  "  snake-eater  "  was  not  to  be  tolerated,  and 
the  utmost  wiles  of  the  spieler  could  not  lure  her 
party  to  his  tent.  The  sun  was  beginning  to  be 
grievously  hot,  and  before  Haxon  had  climbed 
quite  to  the  top  of  the  mast  the  party  had  returned 
to  the  verandah  of  the  hotel,  whence  they  shud- 
deringly  beheld  the  acrobat's  graceful  downward 
plunge. 

The  ladies  had  retired  within  to  rest  from  their 
somewhat  limited  exertions  and  Frank  Laniston 
and  Jardine  were  sitting  on  the  verandah,  languidly 

*53 


The  Windfall 

chatting  and  observing  the  crowd  in  the  square, 
when  suddenly  they  perceived  walking  briskly 
toward  the  hostelry  a  dripping  serio-comic  figure, 
the  pink  satin  garments  party  invisible  beneath 
an  overcoat,  below  which,  however,  a  pair  of  stal- 
wart calves  encased  in  pink  silk  protruded.  Lloyd 
was  following  and  his  distinctive  face  and  manner 
were  too  individual  not  to  be  instantly  placed. 
The  tourists  had  not  recognised  in  the  acrobat  the 
respectable  commercial-looking  figure  they  had 
earlier  noted  with  Lloyd  on  the  verandah,  but  as 
Haxon  marched  stoutly  up  the  steps  he  fixed  them 
with  a  serious  eye  and  instantly  both  remembered 
the  man  and  their  comment  on  the  handbill  in  his 
presence. 

It  was  young  Laniston's  instinct  to  shrink  within 
himself  on  this  discovery;  he  realised  how  deeply 
this  ridicule  must  have  cut,  with  a  keener  edge  that 
the  rudeness  was  obviously  unintentional.  His 
face  flushed,  his  eye  faltered,  and  he  hung  his  head. 
But  Jardine  was  very  much  a  man  of  the  world. 
He  considered  that  the  matter  could  not  well 
be  mended  and  hence  had  best  be  ignored.  He 
and  his  friend  could  not  have  been  expected  to 
recognise  the  presence  of  the  acrobat  and  rein  their 
speech  accordingly.  Perhaps  this  conclusion  was 
the  more  easily  reached  since  he  himself  with  his 
habitual  reserve  had  said  little  or  nothing  calcu- 
lated to  offend  the  sensibilities  of  the  acrobat.  He 
therefore  made  no  sign  of  a  comprehension  of  the 
contretemps;  he  bent  his  eyes  calmly  on  the  sort- 

154 


The  Windfall 

ing  of  a  sheaf  of  letters  which  he  had  just  found 
on  inquiry  at  the  post  office  here.  But  Laniston, 
though  quick  at  contention  with  a  fair  cause  of 
quarrel,  was  possessed  of  the  generosities  of  good- 
fellowship;  he  could  not  disregard  the  wound 
which  he  had  unwittingly  inflicted  and  was  eager 
to  assuage  it.  His  chair  was  near  the  entrance, 
and  thus  he  accosted  the  acrobat,  as  Haxon  was 
about  to  pass,  without  seeming  to  seek  an  occasion 
to  make  the  amende. 

"  I  must  congratulate  you,  sir — a  more  daring 
feat  I  never  saw,"  his  hearty  young  voice  rang  out 
buoyantly,  "  and  I've  seen  some  good  things  on 
both  sides  of  the  water.  I  believe  I  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  speaking  to  Captain  Ollory?  " 

"  No,"  said  Haxon,  apparently  contradicted  by 
the  rills  which  trickled  from  his  garments  as  he 
paused,  and  the  view  which  the  open  coat  gave  of 
the  saturated  pink  finery  and  tights,  "  that  is 
— a  stage  name." 

"Oh,     I     understand- "     Frank    Laniston 

eagerly  interpolated. 

"  Royal  Navy — all  rot,  of  course,"  Haxon 
stipulated,  including  Jardine  in  his  explanatory 
glance. 

"  But  there  is  no  fake  about  the  high  dive," 
cried  out  young  Laniston    delightedly. 

"  Haxon  is  my  name,"  said  the  acrobat,  flat- 
tered and  at  ease  again.  "  And  this  is  my  friend 
and  manager,  Mr.  Lloyd." 

"  Happy  to  meet  you,  Mr.- Lloyd,"  said  Lanis- 


The  Windfall 

ton  politely  as  they  shook  hands.  "  My  name  is 
Laniston."  Then  with  the  easy  assurance  of  the 
very  young  and  unthinking  he  continued  exuber- 
antly, "  Let  me  introduce  my  friend,  Mr.  Jar- 
dine,"  with  a  roguish  side-glance  at  his  stiff  and 
reluctant  companion.  Jardine  shook  hands,  how- 
ever, with  the  requisite  courtesy,  and  thus  the  un- 
lucky episode  passed,  resulting  in  naught  but  the 
achievement  of  an  informal  introduction  to  the 
two  showmen,  which  fact,  distasteful  as  it  was, 
did  not  recur  to  Jardine's  mind  until  later  in  the 
day. 

The  party  from  New  Helvetia  were  dining  at 
one  of  the  smaller  round  tables  in  the  long  low 
room  which  looked  out  of  several  windows  on  the 
formal  walks  and  trellised  arbours  of  an  old-fash- 
ioned flower  garden.  Here  the  sunshine  was  but 
a  drowsy  glamour,  the  shadow  of  the  house  and 
the  foliage  fell  far  athwart  it,  and  the  zinnias,  the 
gladioli,  white  and  red,  the  roses  and  the  pinks, 
made  a  brilliant  display  of  bloom.  The  meal  was 
justifying  the  fame  of  the  cuisine;  the  breeze  flut- 
tered the  white  jasmine  that  clambered  about  the 
window  hard  by;  there  seemed  scant  need  of 
the  punkahs,  stoutly  pulled  back  and  forth  over  the 
three  long  tables  at  which  the  public  in  general 
was  served.  This  little  round  table  stood  a  trifle 
apart  in  a  recess,  which  in  fact  had  once  been  a 
small  room,  now  thrown  into  the  larger  by  the 
removal  of  a  partition.  It  was  sometimes  con- 
signed to  the  use  of  ladies  travelling  alone,  coming 


The  Windfall 

down  from  New  Helvetia  to  take  the  train,  the 
new  branch  railroad  having  recently  reached  Col- 
bury;  or  of  some  local  politician  of  note,  a  candi- 
date for  Congress  alighting  here  in  stumping  the 
district;  or  of  the  circuit  judge,  or  perhaps  the 
chancellor  holding  court  in  this  division;  or  of 
some  noted  revivalist  bent  on  awakening  the  con- 
science of  a  wide  itinerary  and  here  refreshing  the 
inner  man — always  the  guests  assigned  to  this 
table  were  persons  of  distinction  in  their  sort,  and 
the  board  was  suspected  of  furnishing  special  dain- 
ties not  served  to  the  general  public. 

The  long  tables  were  very  orderly  and  decorous. 
Here  dined  usually  most  of  the  young  clerks  of 
the  stores,  a  confirmed  old  bachelor  or  so,  the  visit- 
ing lawyers  and  clients  from  a  distance  with  cases 
in  court,  two  or  three  families  of  the  place,  the 
inevitable  exponents  of  "  declining  housekeeping," 
a  few  young  unsettled  couples,  mated  but  not  yet 
nested,  and  to-day  these  were  reinforced  by  the 
more  well-to-do  of  the  country  folk  attending  the 
Fair.  The  Laniston  party,  well  content  in  their 
sequestered  nook  and  by  reason  of  previous  ex- 
perience accustomed  to  the  situation,  now  and 
again  cast  a  casual  glance  at  the  long  tables,  but 
mostly  found  the  outlook  into  the  fair  pleached 
alleys  of  the  old  garden  a  pleasing  interlude  be- 
tween the  mountain  trout  and  the  saddle  of  moun- 
tain mutton,  both  the  finest  flavoured  of  their  kind 
in  the  world.  The  pungent  odour  of  the  mint 
sauce  was  fragrant  on  the  air;  the  bees  were  astir 

157 


The  Windfall 

among  the  sweet  peas  and  pinks  in  the  garden 
borders;  a  humming-bird's  dainty  wings  fluttered 
gauzily  among  the  white  jasmine  blooms  at  the 
window;  suddenly  the  group's  attention  was  re- 
called by  the  commotion  of  a  late  entrance;  the 
head  waiter  strode  down  the  room  with  an  air  of 
extreme  importance  and  drew  out  two  chairs  at  the 
nearest  of  the  long  narrow  tables,  but  on  its 
opposite  side. 

Mrs.  Laniston  was  electrified  when  one  of  two 
gentlemen,  ushered  to  these  seats  thus  close  by, 
gave  a  polite  bow  of  recognition  toward  the  table 
isolated  in  the  alcove.  Frank  Laniston,  punc- 
tiliously returning  it,  felt  with  the  eyes  of  his 
mother  upon  him  as  if  the  sins  of  many  sinful 
years  had  suddenly  found  him  out.  Jardine,  with 
a  sense  of  desperate  ambush,  formulated  in  his 
inner  consciousness  some  hitherto  suppressed  con- 
victions concerning  the  "  freshness  "  of  the  hobble- 
de-hoy  estate,  and  expressed  his  feeling  of  annoy- 
ance in  a  very  stiff  and  formal  bow — only 
vouchsafed  indeed  lest  worse  things  ensue.  Not 
until  after  both  had  spoken  did  Lloyd  bow,  and 
then  as  stiffly  and  haughtily  as  Jardine  himself. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Jardine,  I  didn't  know  that  you 
had  acquaintances  here,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston  won- 
deringly,  in  a  low,  reproachful  voice  and  with  her 
eyes  discreetly  averted.  "  Who  is  that  tremen- 
dously handsome  man  whom  you  seem  to  be  keep- 
ing to  yourself?  " 

"The  stout  gentleman?"  suggested  her  son, 
158 


The  Windfall 

blushing  and  considerably  out  of  countenance,  but 
bursting  with  the  inopportune  and  irrespressible 
mirth  of  youth. 

"  Be  still,  Francis — of  course  not.  But  who 
was  that  distinguished-looking  young  gentleman 
who  bowed  directly  to  you,  Mr.  Jardine?"  she 
asked. 

Mr.  Jardine  had  some  affection,  real  or  fancied, 
that  menaced  the  well-being  of  his  liver,  and  he 
had  sacrificed  to  it  considerable  time  in  drinking 
the  water  of  the  New  Helvetia  Springs.  While 
in  that  region  he  had  contracted  an  affection,  real 
or  fancied,  of  the  heart,  the  exactions  of  which 
Would  in  no  wise  permit  him  to  depart  thence  until 
the  Laniston  covey  should  have  flown  southward. 
The  intimacy  which  the  gradual  desertion  of  the 
spa  had  fostered  between  the  few  remaining  guests, 
waiting  till  the  fall  of  frost  in  their  Southern  homes 
should  dispel  the  danger  of  contracting  the  yellow 
fever,  that  had  earlier  raged  in  those  cities,  had 
been  a  favouring  element  to  his  attachment,  and  he 
had  greatly  rejoiced  in  its  soft  thralls.  But  now 
this  friendship  for  the  family  had  placed  upon  him 
a  certain  indirect  responsibility  in  their  whimsical, 
futile  outing  to  the  rural  amusement  of  the  Street 
Fair  in  Colbury.  He  had,  of  course,  no  control 
of  the  Laniston  cub,  nor  of  Mrs.  Laniston,  her- 
self. Yet  should  aught  supervene  unbecoming  or 
unworthy  of  the  position  of  the  party  in  any  sort, 
however  elicited  by  their  own  idiosyncrasies,  it 
would  seem  that  he,  experienced,  worldly-wise,  as 

159 


The  Windfall 

he  was,  should  have  guarded  them  from  it.  He 
knew  that  the  two  Laniston  brothers,  who  had  fled 
from  the  yellow  fever  in  their  city  homes  only  as 
far  as  their  respective  plantations,  were  infinitely 
absorbed  since  the  early  opening  of  the  cotton  bolls 
and  the  prospect  of  speedy  shipments  of  the  crop, 
and  glad  enough  to  delegate  their  family  cares,  on 
the  theory  that  Jardine  would  of  course  look  after 
anything  that  Frank  could  not  handle.  Jardine 
lifted  his  eyes  for  a  moment  and  observed  Haxon's 
small  bright  orbs,  staring  across  the  long  table  with 
the  frankest  hardihood  at  the  two  young  ladies, 
whose  fair  faces  were  only  slightly  shaded  by  the 
dainty  embroidered  frills  of  their  wide  white  lin- 
gerie hats  which,  for  some  mysterious  reason  that 
Jardine  could  never  fathom,  they  still  saw  fit  to 
wear  at  table.  He  had  a  fear  that  Haxon  could 
interpret  perhaps  the  motion  of  his  lips — then  he 
reflected  that  the  acrobat  was  not  troubling  himself 
to  gaze  at  him. 

"  That,"  Jardine  replied  to  Mrs.  Laniston  with 
deliberate  cruelty,  "  that  '  distinguished-looking 
young  gentleman '  is  the  manager  of  the  Street 
Fair." 

There  was  a  momentary  silence. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Jardine,"  cried  Lucia  Laniston,  "  I 
— do — not — believe — you." 

This  was  the  voice  that  Lloyd  had  heard  on  the 
verandah  earlier  in  the  day,  low,  soft,  yet  so  keyed 
that  distinctness  hung  on  its  every  intonation — or 
was  it  that  the  distance  was  slight  ? — or  was  it  that 

1 60 


The  Windfall 

all  space  could  not  have  annulled  its  vibrations  to 
his  receptive  ear?  He  could  not  know  what  had 
elicited  the  words,  and  his  instincts  forbade  the  cool 
stare  of  absorbed  interest  with  which  Haxon  per- 
mitted himself  to  participate  in  the  entertainment 
of  the  party  at  the  round  table.  Lloyd  only  saw 
that  Jardine's  thin  cheek  reddened  as  if  in  sur- 
prised annoyance,  that  he  was  laughing  in  mirthless 
embarrassment,  and  that  Mrs.  Laniston  was  re- 
buking her  niece.  "  My  dear — how  can  you? — 
But  Mr.  Jardine,  this  does  seem  impossible." 

"  I  met  him  on  the  hotel  verandah  this  morning, 
— he  was  introduced  to  me, — only  casually  of 
course." 

Frank  Laniston  had  no  particular  affinity  with 
deceit,  but  his  mother,  adoring  as  she  was,  had 
yet  her  captious  and  severe  traits,  and  he  did  not 
care  to  take  upon  himself  the  onus  of  having 
compassed  the  introduction  to  the  two  show- 
men. He  sagely  opined  that  Jardine  was  better 
panoplied  against  her  weapons  than  he — in  fact 
Jardine  would  not  be  called  upon  to  sustain  her 
attack.  It  would  be  presumed  that  all  his  actions 
were  within  the  limit  of  the  appropriate  and  judi- 
cious, and  they  would  not  be  questioned.  He 
could  not  quench  the  sparkle  in  his  eyes  as  they 
met  the  grave  regards  of  the  elder  man,  on  whose 
shoulders  he  had  shifted  the  burden  of  his  own 
cubbish  faux  pas,  and  he  did  not  realise  how  little 
the  adolescent  type  which  he  exemplified  appealed 
at  this  moment  to  Jardine's  predilections.     Indeed 

161 


The  Windfall 

he  esteemed  Jardine  a  friend  of  his  own,  attached 
by  a  perception  of  his  good  qualities  already 
budded,  and  his  promise  of  better  still  to  come,  and 
had  no  idea  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  attrac- 
tions of  one  of  his  feminine  relatives  he  would  have 
long  ago  been  thrown  overboard,  as  it  were,  and 
would  never  have  had  the  opportunity  to  tie  up  the 
straggling,  unpruned,  untrained  vines  of  his  rank, 
crude  convictions  to  the  stanch  supports  of  Jar- 
dine's  standards.  Frank  Laniston  was  one  of  the 
conditions  of  the  opportunity  to  enjoy  the  society 
of  Miss  Lucia  Laniston,  as  was  the  epidemic  of 
yellow  fever  raging  in  the  South,  and  Jardine  was 
fain  to  submit  like  a  philosopher  to  the  admixture 
of  evils  in  various  degrees  with  the  happiness  he 
experienced  in  the  present,  and  sought  in  the  future. 

"  Dear  me — you  don't  say."  Mrs.  Laniston 
cast  but  one  casual  glance  at  the  subject  of  the 
conversation,  and  then  turned  to  the  discussion  of 
her  ice-cream.  She  was  never  the  woman  to  hold 
on  to  hot  iron  when  she  had  once  burned  her 
fingers.  She  had  forgotten  the  man's  fine  carriage 
and  handsome  face  before  she  had  finished  explain- 
ing that  this  kind  of  country  ice  cream,  which  was 
frozen  custard  in  fact,  figured  always  at  metro- 
politan hotels  as  Neapolitan  ice  cream. 

"  The  Great  Smoky  ice — how  would  that  read 
on  an  up-to-date  menu?  "  suggested  Frank,  plying 
his  fork. 

Mrs.  Laniston  was  not  altogether  unaware  of 
Haxon's  bead-like  gaze,  and  she  was  disposed  to 

162 


The  Windfall 

hurry  the  young  ladies  through  the  discussion  of 
their  Indian  peaches  and  grapes. 

"  You  will  have  plenty  of  those  peaches  at  New 
Helvetia,"  she  urged. 

"  But  not  till  to-morrow,"  said  Lucia. 

"  Let  me  order  the  coffee,  now." 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  mamma,"  the  loitering  Ruth 
remonstrated. 

"  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  hunter — yet,"  the  brown- 
haired,  poetic-eyed  Lucia  averred.  But  she  af- 
fected no  ethereal  delicacy  or  daintiness.  She  had 
enjoyed  her  dinner  and  meant  to  finish  it  with  due 
relish. 

Mr.  Jardine  laughed  with  unexpected  leniency 
and  directed  her  choice  to  a  great  deeply  red  Indian 
peach,  the  biggest,  the  most  luscious  in  the  old- 
fashioned  white-and-gilt  china  basket. 

"  I  believe  the  juice  in  this  would  fill  a  cup," 
she  said  solemnly. 

"  No  doubt,"  he  assented. 

"  Blood-red,"  she  looked  at  it  on  the  spoon. 

"  A  beautiful  tint,"  he  agreed. 

"  And  s-s-s-sweet,"  she  fairly  kissed  it  with  her 
delicate,  carmine  lips. 

"  Why,  Lucia,  what  a  gourmande  you  seem," 
said  her  aunt. 

"  Bah,  all  the  rest  of  you  are  as  old  as  the  hills 
and  have  got  the  dyspepsia,  except  Ruth  and  me — 
so  you  grudge  us  our  good  appetites  and  our  nice 
dinner." 

"  I'm  not  oldj"  said  Frank  with  his  adolescent 

163 


The  Windfall 

laugh,  half  growl,  half  chuckle.  "  I  haven't  got 
the  dyspepsia." 

"  No,  but  you  have  got  the  cigarette  habit — 
which  amounts  to  the  same  thing." 

"  Coffee,  waiter,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston  succinctly. 
Not  a  very  wise  or  witty  conversation  certainly, 
but  it  was  not  for  Haxon. 

With  the  peculiar  carrying  quality  of  Lucia's 
voice  every  word  she  uttered  was  distinct  to  Lloyd. 
He  could  not  hear  what  was  said  by  the  others, 
albeit  she  spoke  no  louder.  Now  and  then  Frank's 
facetious  growl  seemed  to  slip  the  leash  and  a 
phrase  or  a  laugh  became  distinguishable.  Lloyd 
had  some  instinct  that  stood  him  in  stead  for  breed- 
ing, for  tuition,  for  experience.  He  would  not 
unduly  urge  Haxon,  but  men  of  their  hurried  mode 
of  life  make  swift  work  of  meals  and  might  be 
called  "  very  valiant  trenchermen."  They  had 
both  finished  a  repast  unusually  loitering  before  the 
Laniston  party  had  fairly  entered  upon  the  fruit 
course.  He  threw  his  napkin  on  the  table  and 
started  to  his  feet  ere  Haxon's  glance  of  pro- 
test could  reach  him.  Then  ruefully  followed  by 
the  acrobat  they  left  the  room  before  the  Laniston 
party  could  gather  themselves  together  for  their 
avoidance. 

A  silence  ensued  at  the  round  table  while  Jardine 
leisurely  cracked  almonds  in  search  of  a  philopena 
which  he  was  pledged  to  eat  with  Ruth,  and  Mrs. 
Laniston  trifled  with  her  black  coffee. 

"  Where's  your  hurry,  now,  Aunt  Dora?  "  asked 
164 


The  Windfall 

Lucia,  her  eyes  narrowing  mischievously,  and 
Ruth  laughed  in  delight,  growing  very  alluringly 
pink  as  she  gazed  teasingly  at  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Laniston  was  distinctly  out  of  countenance. 
"Oh,  you  two  girls! — you  will  be  the  death  of 
me.  I  wish  you  would  try  to  be  more  circumspect 
in  the  presence  of  company." 

"  Meaning  Mr.  Jardine,"  Lucia  turned  in  an 
explanatory  manner  to  Ruth,  her  face  grave  but 
her  eyes  alight  with  fun. 

"  Meaning  Mr.  Jardine,"  Ruth  turned  in  an 
explanatory  manner  to  Lucia,  likewise  grave  but 
with  her  face  pink  and  her  blue  eyes  dancing. 

Then  they  both  collapsed  in  a  gush  of  silent 
laughter,  which  they  half  buried  in  their  clusters 
of  grapes. 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do 
with  them!  I  feel  like  apologising  to  you  for 
them,  Mr.  Jardine,"  Mrs.  Laniston  protested. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  me,  I  beg,"  said  Jardine, 
laughing. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  him,  he  begs,"  said  Lucia  with 
an  explanatory  nod  to  Ruth. 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  him,  he  begs,"  said  Ruth, 
gravely  explaining  to  Lucia. 

Then  ensued  the  usual  burst  of  silvery  laughter. 

"  They  simply  distract  me — the  two  of  them;  " 
Mrs.  Laniston,  after  an  involuntary  laugh,  ad- 
dressed Jardine.  "  You  will  hardly  believe  me, 
Mr.  Jardine,  but  my  Ruth  was  so  good,  oh,  an 
angel  [the  look  they  cast  on  one  another,  while 

is* 


The  Windfall 

Jardine  struggled  in  vain  to  listen  gravely  amidst 
this  foolery],  before  Lucia  came  to  live  with  me. 
And  Lucia's  father,  George  Laniston — my  hus- 
band's brother,  you  know, — says  that  when  Lucia 
was  at  her  own  home  she  was  a  very  mouse  of 
a  little  girl  [again  that  disqualifying  look  at  each 
other].  And  now,  together  they  aid  and  abet 
each  other  in  all  manner  of  absurdity  and — and — 
wildness — that's  just  what  it  gets  to,  sometimes — 
just  wildness." 

"  Sad,"  said  Jardine,  eyeing  the  twain  indul- 
gently. 

They  were  both  munching  grapes  just  now  and 
took  no  notice. 

"  They  ought  to  be  separated,"  said  Frank,  with 
his  capable  air.  "  Offer  a  premium  to  the  one  who 
gets  married  first." 

"  The  blessed  man  would  be  premium  enough," 
Lucia  declared,  "  if  we  just  could  catch  him." 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  think  how  your  voice  carries," 
her  aunt  hastily  admonished  her. 

"  Why,  he,  whoever  he  may  be,  might  hear  it 
and  come  to  the  rescue." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  filled  with  grapes. 

"  Mamma  thinks  that  we  never  see  anything," 
said  Ruth,  with  a  very  knowing  air. 

"  Didn't  he  stare?  "  commented  Lucia. 

"Who? — the  very  handsome  man  that  mamma 
thought  Mr.  Jardine  was  monopolising  and  deny- 
ing her  his  acquaintance?"  said  Frank,  with  his 
callow  chuckle. 

"  Oh,  no,"  Ruth's  voice  affected  a  dreary  ca- 
166. 


The  Windfall 

dence.  "  He  didn't  so  much  as  lift  his  eyelashes, 
— his  very — long — eyelashes. " 

"  It  was  the  other  one  then,"  said  Frank,  "  the 
bullet-eyed  acrobat." 

"  It  doesn't  matter  in  the  least,  Francis,"  said 
Mrs.  Laniston,  with  dignity. 

"  That  manager  is  really  the  handsomest  man  I 
ever  saw,"  said  the  discreet  Frank.  "  The  clerk 
of  the  hotel  tells  me  that  he  is  so  considered  by 
everybody.  In  Duroc's  celebrated  painting  of 
*  The  Last  Day,'  he  is  posed  as  the  angel  Gabriel. 
Why,  his  nickname  is  '  Beauty  ' — he  goes  among 
his  pals  by  the  euphonious  appellation  of  '  Beaut ' 
Lloyd." 

Frank  had  finished  his  dinner  and  he  was 
showing  some  inclination  to  rock  his  chair  to  and 
fro;  he  imagined  that  this  was  why  his  mother 
frowned  at  him. 

"  What  is  his  real  name?  "  Lucia  asked,  unex- 
pectedly. 

"Why,  child,  how  should  he  know?"  Mrs. 
Laniston  had  risen,  and  tapped  sharply  on  her 
niece's  shoulder  with  rather  admonitory  knuckly 
fingers. 

"Why,  Francis  passed  his  exams  all  right;  I 
should  think  that  he  was  far  enough  advanced  to 
be  able  to  construe  the  hotel  register  at  all  events." 

"  And  there  he  is  enrolled  as  Hilary  Chester 
Lloyd,"  said  Frank  genially. 

"  Not  a  bad  name,"  said  Ruth  casually. 

"  Rather  humble  for  the  manager  of  the  great- 
est show  on  earth,"  laughed  Frank.    "  Finest  high 

167 


The  Windfall 

dive  artist  in  the  world,  Captain  Ollory  of  the 
Royal  Navy,  Flying  Lady,  Fat  Lady,  Snake-eater 
— eats  'em  alive, — biggest  boa  constrictor,  living 
skeleton,  largest  Ferris  Wheel " 

Lucia's  face  turned  deeply  crimson  as  she  lis- 
tened to  this  farrago.  She  did  not  know  why  she 
should  blush  for  the  manager — he  certainly  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  blush  for  himself.  To 
divert  attention  from  the  mounting  flush  in  her 
face  she  remarked  as  she  rose  from  the  table,  "  I'm 
going  up  in  the  Ferris  Wheel  at  any  rate." 

"  And  so  am  I,"  said  Ruth.  "  I'll  snatch  that 
joy  while  it  is  within  my  reach." 

The  turmoil  they  anticipated  ensued  instantly. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,"  Mrs.  Laniston  solemnly 
adjured  them.  "  Mr.  Jardine,  in  pity  on  me  let's 
get  them  back  to  the  mountains.  They  will  rack 
my  nerves  to  pieces.  The  idea — to  go  up  in  a  Fer- 
ris Wheel!" 

"  It  is  not  an  intellectual  amusement,  nor  ele- 
gant in  any  sense,  but  it  is  perfectly  safe,"  said 
Jardine. 

"  I  have  been  east  and  west  and  north  and  south, 
yet  was  I  never  in  a  Ferris  Wheel,"  said  Lucia, 
locking  her  arm  in  Ruth's  as  they  stood  by  the  table 
preparatory  to  issuing  from  the  room. 

"  I  have  crossed  the  ocean,  I  have  visited  the 
Colosseum  by  moonlight,  I  have  explored — a  little 
way — the  Catacombs,  yet  was  I  never  in  a  Ferris 
Wheel,"  echoed  Ruth. 

"  I  have  '  swum  in  a  gondola,'  I  have  viewed 
168 


The  Windfall 

the  pyramids  at  Qhizeh,  I  have  ridden  cross-saddle 
in  the  Yosemite,  yet  was  I  never  in  a  Ferris 
Wheel,"  declared  Lucia. 

"  I  have  seen  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar,  I  have  stood 
beneath  the  Eiffel  tower,  I  have  visited  the  Street 
Fair  at  Colbury,  yet  was  I  never  in  a  Ferris 
Wheel,"  Ruth  took  up  the  antistrophe. 

Mrs.  Laniston  had  less  their  safety  in  mind  than 
the  staring  of  the  bullet-eyed  acrobat,  and  the 
fascinations  of  the  long,  unlifted  eyelashes  of  the 
Beauty-man. 

"  If  you  can  endure  to  stay  with  them  every 
minute  of  the  time,  Mr.  Jardine,"  she  consented, 
conditionally.  "  Don't  trust  them  to  Francis--* 
he  is  so  irresponsible  and  flighty  and  young." 

She  felt  very  certain  that  Jardine's  gravity  and 
dignity  would  over-awe  any  possibility  of  an  ap- 
proach to  familiarity  which  a  lack  of  knowledge 
of  the  world  on  the  part  of  the  rustics,  or  the  irre- 
pressible gaiety  of  his  youthful  charges  might 
superinduce. 

"  I'll  take  them  first  to  a  concert  of  *  high  class 
singing,'  "  Jardine  said,  and  for  his  life  he  could 
not  forbear  a  laughing  grimace.  "  I  think  the  sun 
is  a  little  too  high  and  too  hot  as  yet  for  the  fasci- 
nations of  the  Ferris  Wheel." 

Then  joined  by  Frank  he  accompanied  the  two 
out  on  the  verandah  and  down  the  flight  of  steps 
as  once  more  with  their  white  parasols  aglare  in 
the  sunlight  they  took  their  way  through  the  crowd 
in  the  square. 

169 


CHAPTER   IX 

HILARY  LLOYD  had  had  his  doubts  as 
to  how  serious  a  view  Haxon  might  take 
of  his  discovery  of  the  moonshining  en- 
terprise that  had  contrived  to  utilise  to  its  own 
profit  the  presence  here  of  the  Street  Fair.  With 
the  return  of  the  morning  light  and  its  renewal  of 
courage  and  hope  the  possible  suspicion  of  a  coali- 
tion of  these  interests  seemed  to  him  more  remote 
than  heretofore.  His  own  association  with  the 
moonshiner's  family  might  perhaps  be  most  nat- 
urally interpreted  as  an  accident,  a  fortuitous  cir- 
cumstance, and  the  extreme  publicity  of  the 
appearance  of  the  manager  of  the  show  both  in 
the  company  of  the  girl  and  the  old  grandam 
would  be  presumed  to  imply  an  unconsciousness,  an 
entire  freedom  from  complicity  on  his  part.  All 
the  morning,  in  a  sub-acute  process  of  the  mind, 
he  had  argued  these  premises,  pro  and  con.  While 
he  laboured  to  reassure  the  acrobat,  to  freshen  his 
nerve,  to  flatter  his  composure,  to  reinstate  his 
pride,  so  grievously  cut  down  in  the  episode  of  the 
handbill,  these  mental  exercises  were  hardly  pre- 
termitted for  a  moment.  When,  however,  the 
perilous  feat  was  once  more  safely  performed  and 
Haxon  had  been  fed,  and  his  nerves  recuperated, 
Lloyd,  feeling  that  the  moment  for  the  absolutely 

170 


The  Windfall 

essential  revelation  had  arrived  and  could  no  longer 
be  postponed,  drew  him  aside  and  intimated  that 
he  had  disclosures  to  make  of  an  importance  that 
necessitated  closed  doors.  Together  they  ascended 
the  stairs  to  the  room  they  shared,  and  even  there 
Lloyd  looked  out  on  the  balcony  and  down  the 
cross-hall  before  he  began  his  story. 

"  Gosh!  "  exclaimed  Haxon  irritably.  "  What's 
up?  You  scare  me  to  death!  You're  gone  bug- 
house, that's  what !  " 

Lloyd  was  altogether  unprepared  for  the  ap- 
palled horror  that  overmastered  the  acrobat's  every 
power  of  reasoning  when  the  disclosure  was  once 
made.  It  was  as  if  the  dungeons  of  the  Federal 
prisons  were  all  agape  for  him,  and  he  could  not 
escape.  For  some  time  Lloyd  could  only  induce 
him  to  make  an  effort  for  composure  by  warning 
him  that  his  gasps,  his  half  articulate  exclamations 
like  cries,  so  shrill  and  sudden  they  were,  his  dis- 
ordered, hasty  strides  about  the  room — he  actually 
fell  in  one  of  these,  jarring  the  whole  floor  of  the 
house — would  bring  inquiry  upon  them  and  a  sur- 
prise that,  unexplained,  as  it  needs  must  be,  would 
develop  into  suspicion,  and  this  the  briefest  investi- 
gation would  lead  to  complete  discovery  of  the 
facts  with  their  trail  of  false  accusation. 

Lloyd  had  expected  co-operation  and  a  division 
of  the  responsibility  of  devising  a  plan  of  action. 
He  had  a  fund  of  excellent  common  sense.  He 
realised  that  he  was  a  man  of  most  limited  edu- 
cation, of  an  experience  curiously  restricted,  and 

J71 


The  Windfall 

he  did  not  flatter  himself  that  he  had  any  special 
native  gifts  of  perspicacity  and  logic.  He  felt  the 
need  of  help  and  he  had  longed  for  this  moment  of 
liberation  from  the  solitary  torment  of  his  fears — 
for  the  sense  of  a  comrade's  support  and  the  men- 
tal attrition  of  a  mind  fresh  to  these  weary  prob- 
lems. The  force  with  which  he  was  flung  back  on 
his  own  resources  stunned  his  capacities  for  the 
time  being.  The  revelation  had  only  increased  the 
danger  of  immediate  discovery  in  the  absolute  col- 
lapse of  Haxon's  self-control.  Lloyd  used  argu- 
ment and  persuasion,  and  finally  resorted  to 
menacing  warnings. 

"  You'll  give  the  whole  thing  away  to  the  au- 
thorities before  we  can  have  a  moment's  counsel 
together  and  see  what  we  can  do." 

"  What  can  we  do?"  cried  Haxon,  his  palms 
outspread  dolorously.  "We  are  caught  here  like 
a  rat  in  a  trap — we  can't  get  away.  God!  If  I 
had  thirty-five  dollars  in  the  world  I'd  cut  and  run, 
and  leave  you  to  shift  for  yourself." 

Lloyd  eyed  him  critically. 

"  Haxon,  how  can  you  show  so  much  courage 
and  nerve  in  that  cursed  high  dive  of  yours  and  be 
such  a  coward  in  a  crisis  like  this?  "  he  demanded 
sternly. 

"  'Cause  why?  'Cause  the  high  dive  is  biz,  but 
'tain't  my  trade  to  defy  the  Federal  courts  for  of- 
fences I  have  never  c'mitted." 

He  felt  the  aspersion  on  his  courage — the  lash 
cut  his  somewhat  thick  sensibilities. 

172 


The  Windfall 

11  Look  here,  Hil'ry "  He  sat  down  astride 

on  a  chair,  facing  its  back  and  beating  out  on  its 
wooden  rim  the  several  points  as  he  made  them. 
"  If  I  was  in  the  illicit  distilling  lay  I'd  be  fixed  for 
the  biz,  and  I'd  take  my  risks  along  with  the  profits 
as  cool  as  I  do  in  the  high  dive.  I'd  be  where  I 
was  known,  too, — at  home, — an'  there'd  be  some 
chanst  of  friends  to  back  you,  an'  lawyers  for  hire, 
an'  money  at  hand — 't  wouldn't  be  at  the  end  of 
a  blue  fizzle  on  the  road.  But  here  wheer  I  don't 
actually  know  so  much  as  the  name  of  the  clerk  of 
the  hotel!  I  haven't  got  a  fiver  to  save  my 
life!" 

He  turned  the  pockets  of  his  trousers  inside  out 
to  demonstrate  his  impecuniosity,  and  his  aspect 
as  he  sat  thus,  his  round  face  pallid,  and  his  hair 
roached  and  standing  straight  in  front,  might  have 
suggested  the  ludicrous  to  another  man,  but  to 
Hilary  Lloyd  it  only  accented  and  illustrated  the 
stress  of  the  untoward  situation. 

"  I  couldn't  get  a  nickel  by  telegraphing — even 
if  I  left  the  wire  to  be  paid  at  the  other  end,  for 
I  raised  every  cent  I  could  scrape  to  start  the  show 
out  on  the  road ;  and  you  are  in  the  same  fix.  An' 
here  are  you  an'  I  an'  all  the  men  in  the  company 
in  this  strange  place,  liable  to  arrest  and  jail  for 
aiding  and  abetting  in  the  illicit  sale  of  wild-cat 
whisky — oh  Lord!"  His  great  full  voice  rose 
plangent  on  the  air. 

"  I'll  cut  your  tongue  out  if  you  lay  it  again  to 
them  words!  "  declared  Lloyd,  in  a  frenzy  of  ap- 

173 


The  Windfall 

prehension.  He  darted  to  the  door  and  opening 
it  gazed  down  the  cross-halls  to  detect  a  possible 
eavesdropper.  He  then  hastened  to  the  window 
and  looked  out  on  the  balcony.  There  was  no  one 
near — no  suggestion  that  suspicion  had  been 
aroused.  He  returned  to  his  chair,  reassured,  but 
tingling  with  the  excitement  of  the  disastrous  possi- 
bility and  both  angry  and  dismayed. 

"  What  do  you  sit  there,  spouting  all  that 
preachment  at  me  for?  I  know  it  as  well  or  better 
than  you;  didn't  I  find  the  thing  out  and  tell  you 
how  it  stood?  What  do  you  suppose  I  did  that 
for?    To  hear  you  spit  it  all  out  again?  " 

"What  did  you  do  it  for?"  Haxon  eyed  him 
sullenly. 

"  To  get  your  help — you  are  a  partner  in  the 
biz;  you  had  a  right  to  know." 

Haxon  looked  as  if  he  esteemed  it  a  right  with 
which  he  would  willingly  have  dispensed. 

"  You've  got  my  nerve  all  tore  up,"  he  com- 
plained. 

"  That  ain't  the  question — what  are  we  goin' 
to  do  about  it?" 

Haxon,  as  he  still  sat  facing  the  back  of  the 
chair,  took  the  ends  of  his  pockets  in  the  tips  of 
his  fingers  and  held  them  out  to  their  extreme 
limits. 

"  What  can  we  do — nothing!  " 

Lloyd  looked  balked  and  despairing.  He  had 
hoped  so  much,  waited  so  long,  with  such  torturing 
silence  and  self-repression  for  this  appeal  for  the 

174 


The  Windfall 

help  of  his  friend  and  partner.  He  gazed  du- 
biously at  the  attitude  and  face,  all  illustrative  of 
the  idea  of  absolute  collapse,  and  then  he  slowly 
and  laboriously  gathered  himself  together.  He 
felt  like  a  pugilist,  who,  lunging  with  great  force, 
has  caught  a  heavy  fall  in  the  ring.  He  was  game, 
however,  game  to  the  last. 

"  Well,  /  don't  throw  up  the  sponge,"  he  said 
at  length.  "  That's  a  trick  I've  never  learned. 
We  can  do  something !  You  watch  me  right  close 
and  keep  a  shut  mouth,  and  sit  tight,  and  you'll 
see  something  doing." 

He  nodded  his  head  determinedly.  Haxon, 
watching  him  doubtfully,  could  experience  no  re- 
newal of  activity,  no  revival  of  hope.  His  facul- 
ties were  completely  prostrated.  He  could  only 
fear. 

"  Now,  go  slow,"  he  said,  irritably  anxious. 

"  You  be  bound  I  will,"  Lloyd  reassured  him. 

A  dull  curiosity  began  to  grow  in  Haxon's  eyes 
that  yet  winced  from  the  question. 

"  I  have  got  a  right  to  know.  I'm  a  partner, 
and  what  you  do  will  implicate  me." 

"  I've  a  good  mind  to  roll  you  on  the  floor  till 
you're  as  thin  as  a  sheet  of  paper,"  the  athlete 
threatened,  "  only  it's  too  good  a  stunt  without 
a  crowd.  You  may  bet  your  immortal  soul  that 
nothing  /  do  will  implicate  you  or  any  other  man." 

"  I  just  wanted  to  warn  you,"  said  Haxon 
mildly. 

"  I  was  warned  beforehand,"  Lloyd  protested. 
175; 


The  Windfall 

The  mental  activity,  the  canvass  for  expedients 
that  Lloyd  had  sought  to  rouse  in  Haxon's  mind 
seemed  now  stimulated  by  the  cessation  of  urgency 
on  the  manager's  part.  A  vague  sense  of  being 
shut  out  of  his  counsels  was  stirring  uneasily  in 
Haxon's  consciousness — it  put  out  a  clutch  after 
the  plans  in  which  he  would  not  share. 

"  Now  you  take  care  you  don't  make  no  mis- 
take." 

"  Try  not, — for  my  own  sake, — but  I'm  not  in- 
fallible," said  Lloyd.  His  interest  in  Haxon's  im- 
pressions had  evaporated.  Since  Haxon  had 
neither  adequate  aid  nor  well-considered  advice  to 
offer,  and  no  fund  of  courage  to  recruit  and  re- 
animate the  flagging  energies  of  his  partner,  it  did 
not  matter  how  his  vague  conjecture  skirmished 
about  the  point  of  attack  and  plan  of  action. 

"  You  be  sure  you  don't  get  into  a  hole " 

Haxon  paused.  "  You  ain't  thinking  about  giv- 
ing the  information  to  the  authorities?  "  his  small 
keen  eyes  kindled  with  the  contemplation  of  this 
course. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Lloyd  listlessly.  He  had 
drawn  off  his  cuffs  that  had  begun  to  wilt  at  the 
edges  and  was  slipping  the  sleeve-links  of  oxydised 
silver  into  a  fresh  pair  that,  leaning  back  in  his 
chair,  he  had  reached  from  the  tray  of  an  open 
trunk. 

"  But  you  know  the  informer  gets  good  pay. 
The  government  always  pays  like  smoke."  Haxon, 
now  that  his  speculations,  his  proffers  of  plans, 

176 


The  Windfall 

his  advice  were  not  solicited  seemed  bent  on  evolv- 
ing and  laying  them  before  his  companion.  "  We 
might  get  enough  that  way  to  defray  the  cost  of 
the  company's  transportation  to  New  York." 

"  We'd  be  much  likelier  to  be  laid  by  the  heels 
for  false  arrest,  for  we  couldn't  prove  any  illicit 
distilling  or  sale,  either.  Besides,  we'd  get  our 
heads  shot  off  for  playing  the  spy  and  informer; 
that's  etiquette  in  this  region." 

"  You'd  better  think  about  that  reward,  now 
Hil'ry,"  the  acrobat  eagerly  urged.  "  You  ain't 
afraid  of  getting  shot,  nor  nothing  else.  You're 
holding  back  for  another  reason.  There's  a 
woman  in  the  case !  " 

Lloyd  looked  up  with  a  certain  expectation  and 
a  deepening  of  the  roseate  flush  on  his  fair,  girlish 
cheek. 

"  You  don't  want  to  inform  on  them  folks  on 
account  of  that  gal.  You've  gone  and  got  mashed 
on  a  mountain  singing-gal — the  pals  all  say  the 
public  don't  fall  to  her  racket  not  the  least  little 
bit." 

"  Oh,"  said  Lloyd,  as  if  with  sudden  compre- 
hension— had  he  thought  Haxon  was  alluding  to 
another  woman  here?  He  came  visibly  back,  as 
from  some  far  digression  of  thought. 

"  There's  no  use  talking  about  that,  Hax.  I've 
been  all  along  there — in  fact,  there  ain't  a  by-path 
through  this  tangled  torment  that  my  mind  ain't 
travelled  since  the  show  opened  up.  The  reward 
would  be  paid  for  conviction,  not  for  suspicion. 

177 


The  Windfall 

No  man  gets  paid  for  suspecting.  We  couldn't 
wait  till  the  moonshiners  were  arrested  and  con- 
victed in  court — eat  our  heads  off  in  that  time,  if 
anybody  would  credit  us  for  the  grub-stakes." 

Haxon's  face  fell,  so  strong  a  hold  had  his  now 
unsought  plans  taken  upon  him. 

"  Besides,"  Lloyd  argued,  rising  from  his  chair, 
"our  grounds  of  suspicion  ain't  firm  underfoot; 
even  the  authorities  ain't  sure  enough  to  venture 
to  arrest  the  Pinnotts.  They  don't  even  molest  the 
drunken  men  that  were  fairly  sprawling  all  over 
the  town  this  morning.  They'll  point  the  way  they 
have  travelled  before  long.  The  authorities  are 
waiting  for  bigger  game — laying  for  the  moon- 
shiners." 

The  terrors  of  the  situation  seized  Haxon  again : 
The  suspicion  that  the  street  fair  had  at  least  some 
knowledge  of  this  popular  adjunct  to  its  attrac- 
tions; the  obvious  fact  that  it  must  profit  immeas- 
urably by  the  lures  offered  a  dry  town  to  draw  a 
crowd;  the  unlucky  publicity  of  the  intimacy  that 
the  manager  of  the  show  had  struck  up  with  the 
old  moonshiner  and  the  several  members  of  his 
family;  the  incongruity  that  his  daughter  had  be- 
come a  temporary  member  of  the  company,  and 
had  a  place  on  the  daily  programme,  doing  a 
"  stunt  "  that  had  no  value  whatever  in  the  public 
eye,  and  might  thus  seem  a  tribute  of  flattery  to  a 
powerful  coadjutor;  the  certainty  that  without  this 
recruiting  of  the  moonshine  whisky-drinking  ele- 
ment in  the  scantily  populated  region  the  fair  could 

178 


The  Windfall 

hardly  have  lived  through  the  first  day's  perform- 
ance— all  were  close  meshes  in  such  a  net  that  the 
acrobat  could  hardly  hope  to  escape  thence. 

"  Oh,  Hil'ry — we  have  worked  so  hard.  I  don't 
see  no  sense  nor  justice  in  our  gettin'  tangled  up 
this  fashion."  He  bowed  his  head  on  the  chair 
back  and  groaned  aloud. 

"  Now  you  look  here,"  said  Lloyd — he  sum- 
moned a  mental  attention  and  was  not  disconcerted 
when  Haxon  did  not  lift  his  head.  "  You  listen  to 
me.  I'm  going  to  see  this  thing  through.  You 
just  keep  your  tongue  between  your  teeth  and  don't 
bat  your  eye,  and  watch  me,  and  vou'll  see  some- 
thing doing !  " 

;  His  confidence  revived  Haxon's  hopes,  though 
he  retained  his  despondent  attitude  after  he  heard 
the  tread  of  Lloyd's  feet  slowly  descending  the 
stairs.  Perhaps  it  was  well  for  the  preservation 
of  his  composure  that  he  did  not  see  the  deep  de- 
pression the  manager's  face  expressed  while  in  the 
solitary  transit  down  the  flight,  nor  hear  the  half- 
smothered  groan  that  dropped  from  his  lips.  He 
had  wasted  much  time  for  naught  in  hanging  his 
hopes  on  this  futile  interview.  He  was  now  ex- 
actly at  the  point  whence  he  had  started.  Time 
meant  money — the  increase  of  the  expenses  of  the 
show  in  a  ratio  with  which  the  gate  receipts  by 
no  means  kept  pace.  Time  meant  danger,  the 
continual  challenge  of  disastrous  possibilities,  and 
that  these  were  formulating  somewhere,  somehow, 
he  did  not  doubt  for  a  moment.    He  paused  when 

179 


The  Windfall 

he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  flight  and  glanced 
through  a  window  of  a  side  hall  that  had  an  out- 
look in  the  direction  of  the  sylvan  nook  where 
Shadrach  Pinnott  had  planted  his  staff.  He  had 
a  vague,  indeterminate  disposition  to  make  a  tour 
of  discovery  thither,  to  satisfy  himself — to  see,  per- 
chance— wild  hope — if  his  suspicions  were  not 
merely  the  result  of  his  over-anxious  facile  fears. 
All  the  world  knows  that  dry  towns  are  only  dry 
in  spots,  and  perhaps  the  fact  that  the  populace 
had  been  so  called  into  the  streets  by  the  presence 
of  the  show  made  the  pervasive  evidences  of  liquor 
more  obvious.  Alack,  his  first  glance  from  the 
window  proved  the  tenuity  of  this  reasoning.  The 
farthest  man  he  could  see  along  the  street  com- 
ing from  that  direction  was  wiping  his  mouth 
with  the  back  of  his  hand;  then  amidst  a  file  of 
ordinary  pedestrians  two  came  affectionately  clasp- 
ing each  other  around  the  waist,  under  the  firm 
conviction  that  four  legs  can  better  compass  loco- 
motion than  two,  when  all  are  so  unsteady,  on  the 
theory  of  strength  in  numbers,  perhaps.  No  one 
took  notice,  apparently,  of  the  aberrations  of  this 
method  of  progression,  but  he  reflected  it  would  be 
only  the  gratification  of  a  morbid  anxiety  to  visit 
the  spot,  and  his  presence  there  might  add  an  ele- 
ment of  curiosity  and  speculation  to  a  circumstance 
already  unduly  suspicious.  As  he  came  out  into  the 
square  he  noticed  with  a  sort  of  melancholy  satis- 
faction how  well  the  show  was  running  in  all  its 
various  departments,    how   orderly   it  was,   how 

180 


The  Windfall 

mindful  of  its  best  possibilities,  how  cheerful  and 
brisk  the  performers  and  spielers,  all  unprescient, 
poor  souls !  It  was  like  a  well-oiled  piece  of  ma- 
chinery, automatic,  scarcely  needing  the  eye  of  the 
manager.  He  cast  a  glance  upward  at  the  town 
clock — it  was  already  time  for  the  afternoon  con- 
cert; at  that  moment  he  heard  the  tuning  of  the 
violins  and  a  booming  note  from  the  bassoon. 
As  he  entered  the  tent  he  remarked  that  the  light 
within  was  tempered,  mellow,  and  his  artistic  taste 
was  refreshed  by  this — it  would  aid  the  effect  of 
the  lime-light  on  the  stage  which  should  simulate 
sunshine  amongst  the  dappling  shadows  of  the 
peach  tree  leaves. 

The  audience  crowded  the  tent,  to  his  surprise, 
for  this  "  stunt  "  had  proved  no  favourite  perform- 
ance with  the  public,  and,  since  already  seen,  it  had 
no  claims  to  novelty.  Then  he  realised  the  cause 
of  this  accumulation  of  spectators ;  in  the  best  seats 
in  the  centre  of  the  place  was  Mr.  Jardine,  his 
jaded,  slightly  disdainful,  thin,  grave,  thoughtful 
face  easily  discriminated  among  the  many  that 
seemed  turned  out  of  a  mould,  custom  made,  so 
commonplace  they  were.  The  fresh,  bright,  candid 
countenance  of  the  young  collegian  was  near  at 
hand,  and  between  the  two,  radiant  in  their  white 
dresses  and  hats,  and  with  their  flower-like  faces, 
exquisitely  fair  and  dainty,  looking  expectantly  to- 
ward the  stage,  half  amused  at  their  own  readiness 
to  be  entertained  with  these  slight  trifles,  were  the 
two  belated  summer  birds  of  New  Helvetia:    The 

181 


The  Windfall 

entrance  of  so  distinguished  a  party  had  already 
made  the  "  high  class  concert "  the  fashion;  the 
best  element  of  the  town  was  present,  and  this  had 
been  reinforced  by  the  profanum  vulgus  of  the 
street,  for  whatever  the  town  folks  found  accep- 
table the  rural  wight  cautiously  sampled,  often 
decrying  and  ridiculing  while  secretly  approving 
and  imitating.  There  were  many  sunbonnets,  and 
snuff-brushes,  and  big  wool  hats,  and  bushy  beards, 
but  the  dapper  townsmen  were  in  greater  numbers 
than  heretofore  and  the  Misses  Laniston  did  not 
wear  the  only  be-frilled  millinery  that  the  tent  dis- 
played. It  was  an  audience  of  no  mean  intelligence, 
and  poor  Lloyd  realised  that  were  he  free  from 
the  gnawing  wild  beasts  of  secret  anxiety  and  har- 
rowing doubt  and  actual  fear,  his  showman's  heart 
would  have  beat  high  with  the  determination  to 
stretch  every  nerve  and  do  his  best  devoir.  Even 
as  it  was  there  was  no  use  in  permitting  the  second 
violin  to  enter  upon  the  fugues  of  the  little  over- 
ture very  distinctly  sharp  to  his  acute  and  accurate 
ear.  He  had  taken  a  seat  near  the  orchestra,  and 
he  suddenly  stood  up  and  signed  with  a  wave  of 
the  hand  to  catch  the  performer's  attention.  The 
man  turned  the  screw  slightly,  and  twanged  the 
string.  While  Hilary  Lloyd  stood,  his  head  slightly 
bent,  with  a  face  of  motionless,  intent  interest,  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  he  heard  distinctly,  besides  the 
violin's  keen  vibration,  the  sudden  snap  of  the 
shutter  of  a  camera.  He  nodded  approval  to 
the  violinist,  but  his  eyes  followed  the  camera's 

182 


The  Windfall 

sound.  Ruth's  flower-like  face  was  pink  with 
smiles  and  Lucia's  long,  romantic  eyes  were  fright 
with  triumphant  daring.  The  two  cavaliers  were 
distinctly  disconcerted  as  their  eyes  met  Lloyd's. 
It  was  only  for  a  moment;  the  manager  affected  to 
look  over  the  house,  then  turning,  resumed  hi?  scat, 
and  the  overture  broke  briskly  forth. 

"  Lucia,"  her  cousin  Frank  growled  under  cover 
of  the  music,  "  you  had  better  mind.  You  will  be 
led  out  by  the  ear,  if  you  don't  look  out." 

"  I  should  be  delighted  to  have  my  ear  distin- 
guished in  any  way,  here,  where  a  fine  ear  is  made 
so  conspicuous,"  she  twittered  in  response. 

"  But  the  violins  are  all  in  accord  now,  and 
that  second  one  was  out  of  tune  before,"  said 
Ruth. 

"  In  printing  the  film  I  shall  take  special  pains 
with  so  fine  an  ear,"  said  Lucia. 

"  You  can't  fool  me,"  gurgled  Frank.  "  You 
snapped  him  because  the  fellow  looked  so  con- 
foundedly handsome  at  the  moment.  You  never 
dreamed  that  the  place  was  still  enough  for  the 
click  of  the  button  to  betray  you.  There's  nothing 
green  in  my  eye !  " 

"  You  two  must  be  a  little  more  careful,  if  I 
may  venture  to  say  so,"  suggested  Mr.  Jardine, 
who  really  was  somewhat  aghast  at  the  camera  epi- 
sode— exceedingly  discommoded  by  the  grave  eye 
of  the  manager  and  nervous  lest  some  neighbour 
might  have  noticed  the  incident.  "  Even  in  a  rustic 
community,"  he  continued,  "  it  won't  do  to  take  it 

183 


The  Windfall 

for  granted  that  there  are  no  people  who  know 
what — er — er ' ' 

"  Good  manners  are,"  suggested  Lucia. 

"  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons — but  I  did  not  say 
that." 

"  Worse  still,  you  implied  it.  You  rejoice  in 
being  enigmatical."  Then  she  turned  to  Ruth. 
"  Think  of  poor  Mrs.  Jardine  (when  he  finds  her) 
* — having  to  pick  out  his  meaning  from  implica- 
tions." 

"The  dear  lady  (when  he  finds  her) — he  will 
train  her  to  deduce  the  state  of  his  affections  from 
statistics." 

Then  they  both  collapsed  behind  their  white 
fans,  over  which  they  looked  at  each  other  with 
bright  eyes,  brimful  of  laughter.  The  mythical 
Mrs.  Jardine  (when  he  should  find  her)  was  one 
of  their  favourite  subjects  of  retort  when  no  rea- 
sonable justification  was  at  hand,  and  they  spent 
much  time  in  adjusting  and  readjusting  her  traits. 
Oddly  enough,  for  so  sane  and  grave  a  man,  this 
folly  teased  him,  which  fact  afforded  them  ex- 
treme delight. 

They  were  incomprehensible  to  him  in  more  ways 
than  one,  but  generally  he  gave  this  hardly  a  lan- 
guid thought,  ascribing  it  to  the  idiosyncrasies  of 
the  feminine  mind,  which  according  to  the  popular 
persuasion  was  adjusted  to  a  peculiar  poise.  Now, 
however,  he  puzzled  over  the  theory  of  their  con- 
duct, which  both  nettled  and  embarrassed  him. 
In  any  metropolitan  crowded  centre,  in  any  station 

184 


The  Windfall 

of  fashionable  society,  he  knew  from  experience 
that  their  graceful  propriety  of  demeanour,  their 
air  of  delicate  reserve,  their  instinct  for  the  right 
word  at  the  right  moment,  the  soft  youthful  dig- 
nity which  they  could  conserve,  were  matters  for 
all  admiration;  he  had  relished  greatly  being  ad- 
mitted behind  this  conventional  formal  pose  into 
the  intimacies  of  familiar  friendship  where  he  saw 
them  as  they  really  were,  in  their  natural  girlish 
relaxation  from  the  conventions  of  general  society. 
But  here  was  a  new  phase.  They  were  recklessly 
conspicuous;  they  cared  naught  for  the  opinions  of 
the  rustic  crowd — indeed  what  they  did  and  said 
was  likely  to  be  presumed  the  fashion  of  the  time 
and  the  fad  of  the  day.  "  I  like  to  be  where  I 
know  nobody,  and  where  nobody  knows  me," 
Lucia  had  declared,  in  reply  to  a  covert  admonition 
which  he  had  ventured;  "  I  feel  so  easy.  What  is 
that  story  of  a  knight  of  old  who  had  a  magic 
armour  that  protected  him  from  sight,  and  he  went 
through  the  camps  of  his  enemies  all  unsuspected. 
That  is  how  I  feel;  I  feel  invisible.'* 

Mr.  Jardine  had  not  expected  that  they  would 
adopt  the  Colbury  standards  and  sit  demurely  still, 
as  if  conscious,  in  this  little  sphere,  of  the  regards 
of  all  the  world;  that  they  would  sparingly  con- 
verse in  the  lowest  of  tones  and  with  solicitude  for 
the  effect  of  their  words.  They  could  but  be  indif- 
ferent to  criticism  and  maintain  a  certain  independ- 
ence in  so  limited  an  environment.  But  it  did 
seem  to  him  that  they  had  reached  the  extreme  of 

185 


The  Windfall 

toleration  in  the  episode  of  the  camera.  Of  course 
he  realised  that  Lucia  had  never  expected  the  click 
of  the  instrument  to  acquaint  the  subject  that  she 
had  sought  and  caught  his  photograph,  but  in  this 
contretemps  she  perceived  only  an  amazing  jest 
at  her  own  expense,  of  a  delightful  and  unprece- 
dented savour.  She  almost  perished  with  laughter 
and  ridicule  of  herself  and  seemed  to  have  no  care 
nor  fear  of  the  opinion  of  the  man  and  this  man  a 
stranger,  of  low  station,  of  most  questionable  posi- 
tion, who  might  take  bitter  offence,  or  venture  some 
impertinence,  or  seek  reprisal  in  some  wise  intoler- 
able to  her  and  her  friends.  For  his  own  part 
Jardine  was  the  same  in  every  circumstance  of  life ; 
formal,  civil,  conventional,  reserved.  However 
the  kaleidoscope  of  environment  shifted  he  did  not 
change,  and  his  standards  were  unalterable.  He 
sought  to  reflect  that  they  were  both  very  young; 
they  were  like  birds,  thus  freed  for  the  nonce  from 
the  frumpish  restrictions  of  the  stereotyped  dulness 
of  their  cage.  They  were  like  irresponsible  school- 
girls, liberated  from  the  cast-iron  class-room  rules; 
indeed  it  was  not  long  since  both  were  hard  and 
fast  in  these  restraints;  they  were  like  children, 
thinking  no  ill,  confident  or  careless  of  approval, 
enjoying  the  passing  moment,  freighted  with  scanty 
opportunity  for  pleasure  though  it  was,  with  a  zest, 
a  delight,  a  buoyancy  of  spirit,  a  capacity  to  evolve 
fun  from  serious  conditions  which  Jardine  could 
not  have  compassed  at  any  period  of  his  career. 
But  he  realised  that  there  was  more  responsibility 

186 


The  Windfall 

in  the  office  of  their  chaperon  than  he  had  deemed 
possible  when  he  had  assumed  Mrs.  Laniston's 
charge  and  left  her  to  her  well-earned  rest  at  the 
hotel. 

Suddenly  the  tempo  of  the  music  changed;  the 
subtle  charm  of  a  simple  old  melody  was  pulsing 
on  the  air  and  now  it  dwindled  into  a  vague  di- 
minuendo, and  then  to  a  pizzicato  echo,  in  the 
midst  of  which  a  clear,  brilliant  voice  sounded  sing- 
ing in  the  distance.  The  curtain  went  up  with  a 
rush;  the  stage  was  revealed  flooded  with  yellow 
sunlight  and  all  a-dapple  with  the  shadows  of 
swaying  peach-leaves  from  boughs  waving  in  the 
wind  above.  And  what  was  that  effect?  How 
could  they  have  such  strangely  perfect  scenery — 
the  purple  mountains,  the  azure  ranges  of  the  dis- 
tance, the  blue  sky  bedight  with  a  cloud  all  opal 
and  gold,  and  a  river  with  a  crystalline  reflex 
of  its  splendour.  Before  the  simple  expedient  of 
dropping  a  section  of  the  canvas  occurred  to  their 
minds  a  figure,  lightsome,  airy,  featly  dancing, 
bounded  into  the  illuminated  centre  of  the  scene. 
There  was  one  moment  of 'amazed  scrutiny — it  was 
like  some  classic  canephora  of  painting  or  sculp- 
ture ;  then  the  eye  recognised  in  the  basket-like  ves- 
sel poised  on  the  head,  filled  with  trailing  vines  and 
purple  grape  clusters,  the  familiar  cedar  piggin  of 
the  mountains;  the  antique-draped  garb  was  but 
the  up-caught  skirt  of  the  conventional  make,  but 
with  the  yellow  folds  so  craftily  held  in  plaits  that 
they  sustained  a  wealth  of  the  grapes,  picturesquely 

187 


The  Windfall 

trailing  down  over  a  dark  wine-tinted  petticoat, 
short  enough  to  disclose  ankles  and  feet  of  a 
wonderful  agility.  The  auburn  hair,  soft,  fluffy, 
rayonnant,  was  coiled  in  a  knot  of  negligent  charm, 
and  the  head  was  thrown  back  as  the  dancer 
leaped  with  incredible  lightness  and  grace,  catch- 
ing with  one  hand  toward  the  lure  of  a  peach 
on  a  bough  out  of  her  reach,  now  and  then 
lifting  it  to  poise  the  basket,  singing  in  a  clear, 
true,  sweet  voice  the  lilting  measures  of  the  old 
song.  It  was  a  short  "  turn  ";  she  knew  but  the 
single  stanza.  The  effect  was  like  some  radiant, 
transient  vision,  the  fleeting  allurement  of  the  senses 
in  a  dream,  as  the  curtain  suddenly  descended,  the 
light  went  out,  and  the  vibrating  echo  of  the  violins 
ceased. 

A  moment  of  silent  surprise;  then  the  sound  of 
the  clapping  of  one  enthusiastic  pair  of  hands,  and 
presently  the  tent  rocked  with  a  tumult  of  applause. 

"  By  George — that's  great!  "  cried  Frank  Lanis- 
ton,  red  in  the  face  from  his  exertions,  his  hands 
banging  together  like  machinery.  He  gazed  in 
sympathy  at  Jardine,  who  was  fairly  startled  out 
of  his  composure  and  applauding  with  a  will. 

"  It  is  absolutely  beautiful,  and  perfectly 
unique,"  he  exclaimed. 

The  two  young  ladies  were  trying  what  re- 
sources of  clatter  the  sticks  of  their  white  fans 
might  compass  as  they  struck  them  against  the 
palms  of  their  small  white  gloved  hands. 

The  man  in  the  old  whitish  grey  coat,  whom 
1 88 


The  Windfall 

Lloyd  had  noticed  earlier  in  the  audience,  experien- 
cing renewed  anxiety  lest  some  inimical  espionage 
might  account  for  his  purchase  of  a  ticket  to  a  per- 
formance so  ludicrous  to  his  taste,  sat  in  the  midst 
of  the  clamour  as  still  as  if  he  had  been  carved  in 
stone.  The  enthusiasm  had  illumined  all  faces  save 
his — some  subtle  shadow  of  despondency  had  fallen 
upon  it.  He  no  longer  held  it  half  muffled  in  the 
high  collar  and  lapels  of  the  big  old  coat.  It  was 
shielded  only  by  the  drooping  brim  of  the  limp 
white  hat  and  he  presently  turned  it  hither  and 
thither,  looking  in  stunned  amazement  and  a  dep- 
recatory, remonstrant,  unconscious  inquiry  at  the 
neighbouring  spectators  among  the  crowded 
benches.  The  flavour  of  his  secret  jest  had 
evaporated — he  seemed  to  find  naught  to  ridicule 
now. 

"  Why  don't  they  raise  that  curtain,  I  wonder," 
growled  Frank  Laniston.  "  It's  as  hot  as  Hades 
in  here,  working  this  way.  Bless  my  soul,  won't 
she  accept  an  encore?  " 

For  the  curtain  remained  immovable.  Lloyd, 
startled  by  the  unexpected  endorsement  of  the  at- 
traction he  had  devised,  that  had  hitherto  fallen  so 
flat,  gratified  by  the  applause  as  if  it  were  a  per- 
sonal commendation,  flushed  deeply  red  as  he  sat 
near  the  orchestra  and  with  smiling  eyes  waited  too 
with  all  the  rest  for  the  conventional  rising  of  the 
curtain  and  the  complaisant  repetition  of  the  num- 
ber. He  had  left  nothing  unforeseen  in  his  instruc- 
tions to  the  tyro.    Clotilda  had  been  fully  informed 

189 


The  Windfall 

of  the  nature  and  exigencies  of  an  encore,  and  the 
course  proper  for  her  to  pursue  as  the  recipient  of 
that  great  compliment.  But,  alack,  the  turn  had 
never  received  before  a  hand  of  applause.  In  dead 
silence  the  rural  crowd  had  heretofore  watched  the 
scene  and  wondered  futilely  what  was  the  point 
when  a  simple  country  girl,  in  her  old  calico 
"  coat,"  jumped  around  under  a  peach  tree,  and 
sang  a  verse  of  an  old  song,  a  thing  to  be  seen  on 
any  roadside.  Then  they  had  silently  filed  out  and 
there  was  an  end  for  the  time.  Now,  however, 
since  there  was  applause  from  so  experienced  and 
discerning  a  source,  a  revised  estimate  seemed  in 
order.  Perhaps  a  new  interpretation  waited  upon 
a  more  aesthetic  point  of  view.  The  applause  was 
hearty  and  general,  and  rose  presently  to  an  in- 
sistent clamour. 

Clotilda,  having  had  no  occasion  to  respond  to 
the  plaudits  of  the  public,  had  forgotten  every 
syllable  of  her  instructions.  Lloyd  remained  yet 
some  moments  waiting,  like  the  rest,  eyeing  the  cur- 
tain, in  the  immediate  expectation  of  seeing  it  rise. 
The  musicians  had  their  instruments  in  hand — at 
the  tinkle  of  the  bell  they  would  begin  da  capo. 
But  the  curtain  continued  absolutely  blank;  no  sign 
of  the  golden  glow  of  the  artificial  light  could  be 
discerned,  naught  but  the  ripples  of  the  air,  swiftly 
running  over  it  as  the  draught  from  the  lowered 
canvas  at  the  rear  struck  upon  the  fabric.  Lloyd 
began  to  look  discomposed,  then  anxious,  then  as 
the  applause  redoubled  its  demand  he  waited  one 

190 


The  Windfall 

uncertain  moment  longer,  rose,  advanced  amongst 
the  orchestra,  sprang  upon  the  stage,  pushed  the 
curtain  aside  and  vanished  behind  its  sphinx-like 
blankness. 

"  I  never  did  really  believe  that  he  was  the  man- 
ager till  this  moment,"  said  Lucia,  a  regretful  ca- 
dence in  her  voice. 

"  What  did  you  think  he  was,  a  duke  in  dis- 
guise? "  chuckled  Frank. 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  is  the  manager,"  said  Ruth  glibly, 
"  and  this  is  only  the  by-play  of  the  real  romance 
staged  here.  He  is  in  love  with  that  pretty  girl, 
and  was  fascinated  in  training  her." 

Mr.  Jardine  had  fended  off  the  motley  crowd 
from  contact  with  his  fair  charges  as  best  he  might 
by  seating  the  two  young  ladies  together,  with 
Frank  on  one  side  and  himself  on  the  other.  But 
there  was  no  protection  from  the  occupants  of  the 
seats  just  in  front,  and  suddenly  one  of  these,  a 
slovenly  old  wretch,  in  a  dirty,  whitey-grey  coat  and 
flapping  hat,  turned  and  fixed  an  eager,  intent,  al- 
most indignant  gaze  on  Ruth's  face  as  she  spoke. 
It  was  as  if  she  had  spoken  a  thought,  a  fear  in  his 
own  mind,  and  to  Jardine's  surprise  he  saw  that  the 
face  was  young — young,  but  overgrown  with  the 
stubble  of  a  three-days'  beard,  a  stiff,  dark  beard. 
Wisps  of  short,  dark  hair  overhung  the  forehead, 
as  if  a  forelock  were  pulled  of  set  purpose  half  over 
the  eyes ;  for  the  rest,  the  face  was  dirty,  unwashed, 
one  might  have  thought  stained  in  blotches — a  re- 
pellent face,  with  fine,  bright  brown  eyes.     They 


The  Windfall 

turned  eagerly  to  Lucia  as,  all  unnotlng  his  demon- 
stration, she  replied  to  Ruth's  observation. 

"  I  don't  think  she  is  so  pretty,"  said  Lucia 
critically.  "It  is  the  artistic  environment  that 
makes  it  all  so  fetching,  don't  you  think,  Mr. 
Jardine?" 

He  caught  but  the  one  word  in  the  uproar  of 
applause. 

"Artistic — it  is  indeed!  I  wouldn't  have  be- 
lieved it  if  I  hadn't  seen  it.  That  scene  has  the 
true  poetic  glamour;  it  is  as  classic  as  an  eclogue  of 
Virgil." 

He  could  hardly  speak  for  the  clamour  which 
overpowered  the  tinkle  of  the  bell,  the  earliest 
measures  of  the  violins.  As  the  curtain  rose  on  the 
golden  glow  came  a  sudden  hush;  the  pizzicato  of 
the  violins  fell  as  trippingly  as  fairy  feet  on  the 
silence;  then  the  sound  of  singing  broke  forth  in 
the  distance  and  the  beautiful  dancing  figure 
appeared.  With  familiarity  one  could  note  new 
effects,  that,  however,  brought  no  disparagement. 
The  opal  cloud  in  the  scenery  had  turned  to  purple, 
while  the  saffron  cloud  had  held  its  glow.  Once 
there  was  a  sudden  mutter  of  thunder  and  a  swift 
veining  of  white  glister  was  revealed  amidst  the 
hyacinthine  tones. 

As  before,  the  scene  was  all  too  short,  the  beauti- 
ful dancing  figure  but  a  glimpse.  The  curtain 
came  down  in  a  clamour  of  applause;  as  this  con- 
tinued it  rose  after  a  short  space.  Clotilda  had 
been  schooled  anew,  and  she  was  a  quick  study. 

192 


The  Windfall 

Nothing  could  have  seemed  more  perfect,  more 
practised  than  her  manner  of  smiling,  grateful  rec- 
ognition as  she  came  forward  to  the  footlights. 
She  had  removed  the  basket  of  grapes  from  her 
head,  but  supported  it  in  the  round  of  her  arm,  half 
poised  against  her  hip;  the  other  hand  lightly 
touched  the  masses  of  grapes  held  in  the  folds  of 
her  yellow  dress,  but  it  was  obvious  that  their  ar- 
tistic draping  had  been  made  hard  and  fast  against 
accident.  She  bowed  with  drooping  eyelashes,  and 
once  more,  lower  still,  she  bowed,  all  rustic  grace 
and  diffidence,  and  then  the  curtain  came  down  with 
a  rush  and  the  turn  was  triumphantly  at  an  end. 

"  Couldn't  Lucia  photograph  her,  Mr.  Jar- 
dine?"  cried  Ruth.  "  Oh,  how  I'd  love  to  have 
her  in  my  collection." 

He  hesitated  coldly  for  one  moment;  then  as 
if  suddenly  bethinking  himself,  eagerly  assented. 

"  Doubtless — doubtless;  you  will  want  her  in 
costume.  I  must  speak  to  the  manager  at 
once." 

As  he  eagerly  breasted  the  crowd,  seeking  to 
get  in  as  the  spectators  streamed  out,  the  two  young 
ladies,  amazed  by  his  willing  co-operation,  which 
they  had  by  no  means  expected,  stood  and  gazed 
quizzically  at  each  other. 

"A  change  of  heart?  "  Lucia  asked. 

"  Or  a  softening  of  the  brain,  perhaps,"  RutK 
responded.  Then  they  both  turned  to  note  his 
progress  and  saw  him  already  in  courteous  con- 
ference with  the  manager.     In  fact  Jardine  had 

193! 


The  Windfall 

gladly  embraced  the  opportunity  to  give  the  im- 
pression to  this  very  handsome  man  of  low  degree 
that  the  highly  placed  and  aristocratic  Miss  Lucia 
Laniston  was  out  for  snap-shots  in  general,  and 
was  adding  to  her  collection  from  features  of  the 
town,  the  mountains,  the  fair,  whatever  presented 
itself  as  of  passing  interest.  This  was  an  infer- 
ence more  creditable  and  becoming  than  the  possi- 
bility that  she  was  greatly  struck  by  the  manly 
beauty  of  Lloyd's  countenance  and  desired  to 
remember  it,  to  have  the  likeness  to  refresh  her 
recollection,  and  thus  caught  the  exceptional  value 
of  his  pose  at  the  moment.  Jardine  did  not  tell, 
and  he  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  tell,  that 
Lloyd's  face  was  the  only  one  she  had  cared  to 
portray,  and  that  the  camera  had  not  been  placed 
in  position  before  and  the  slide  drawn  since  she 
had  been  in  town.  He  thought  this  an  oblitera- 
tion of  the  dangerous  flattery  if  the  man  had  been 
complacent  and  pleased  by  the  discovery  the  click 
of  the  shutter  had  afforded  him,  and  a  placation 
of  the  offence,  had  he  taken  umbrage,  by  the 
apology  suggested  in  the  fact  that  he  was  only  one 
of  the  many  victims  of  the  raging  camera.  He  was 
surprised  by  the  grave  and  gentlemanly  address  of 
the  showman.  Lloyd  might  have  seemed  indeed 
some  man  of  high  grade,  were  it  not  for  his  ac- 
cent. He  would  be  very  happy  to  oblige,  as  far 
as  he  had  any  voice  in  the  matter,  but  he  must 
first  ask  the  "  lydy."  Most  of  the  attractions  of 
the  show  were  photographed  and  their  portraits 

194 


The  Windfall 

were  on  sale,  but  this  lydy  had  very  recently  joined 
the  company,  playing  only  a  temporary  engage- 
ment, in  fact,  and  she  had  not  been  photographed 
at  all.  Having  also  his  reservations,  he  did  not 
add  that  it  had  not  been  thought  worth  while,  the 
reality  itself  being  so  incapable  of  sustaining 
interest. 

Jardine,  having  carried  his  point,  became  afraid 
that  he  was  playing  it  a  little  too  fine,  as  the  two 
young  ladies  approached  and  he  found  himself 
compelled  to  say,  "  This  is  the  manager,  Mr. 
Lloyd,  ladies,  and  he  is  in  hopes  he  may  be  able 
to  secure  the  photograph  you  desire." 

Mr.  Lloyd  raised  his  hat  in  a  manner  to  which 
no  exceptions  could  have  been  taken  by  the  most 
exacting  critic,  and  replying,  "  I  shall  be  with  you 
again  in  a  moment,"  stepped  upon  the  stage  and 
disappeared. 

Mr.  Jardine  looked  harassed;  he  took  out  his 
handkerchief  and  passed  it  over  his  brow.  It  had 
been  only  one  afternoon  of  chaperonage,  but  he 
had  all  the  indicia  of  brain  fag.  The  two  young 
ladies,  silent,  glanced  about  at  the  queer,  unaccus- 
tomed place;  to  his  jaundiced  mind  they  were 
measuring  its  opportunities  to  furnish  them  oc- 
casion for  more  mischief.  Suddenly  beside  him 
the  curtain  drew  up  and  the  beautiful  mountain 
girl  stood  posed  exactly  as  she  had  appeared  before 
the  audience. 

She  was  flattered  that  her  picture  was  to  be 
taken — now  and  again  her  lips  parted  over  her 

195 


The  Windfall 

beautiful  teeth  in  a  foolish  little  grin  that  annulled 
every  scintilla  of  poesy  in  her  presence. 

"  I  have  tried  this  sort  of  thing  a  bit,  myself, 
and  I  don't  think  the  perspective  will  answer  unless 
the  lydies  are  on  a  level.  There  is  such  a — a — 
mixed  crowd  outside — will  the  lydy  step  on  the 
stage?  "  suggested  Lloyd. 

If  for  no  other  reason  than  the  dismay  on  Jar- 
dine's  high-featured,  disdainful  face,  Lucia  signi- 
fied her  acquiescence,  and  accepting  the  assistance 
of  the  manager's  proffered  outstretched  hand  she 
sprang  lightly  on  the  boards.  Lloyd's  quick  in- 
tuition interpreted  the  expression  on  their  several 
faces,  for  Jardine  had  instantly  joined  her  and 
she  felt  that  she  must  mask  her  thoughts  if  she 
would  not  have  them  read  when  Lloyd  said,  evi- 
dently in  response  to  the  protest  in  Mr.  Jardine's 
countenance — "  This  is  quite  retired,  not  at  all 
public  now."  Then  glancing  at  the  three  or  four 
people  who  were  yet  loitering  and  staring  at  the 
figures  on  the  stage,  he  called  out  loudly — "  This 
is  no  performance.     Keep  out  of  here !  " 

The  wondering  rustics  slowly  vanished ;  only  one 
lingered  and  as  Lloyd's  gaze  fell  upon  him  he 
recognised  the  figure  clad  in  a  whitey-gray  garb 
which  had  so  persistently  dogged  his  steps.  His 
voice  took  on  an  authoritative  cadence. 

"  Clear  out.  This  is  no  performance.  Clear 
out,  I  say !  " 

The  figure  turned  like  a  dog  that  would  fain 
fly  at  the  throat,  yet  slinks  in  fear. 

196 


The  Windfall 

"  I  ain't  carin'  what  you  say,"  the  intruder  blus- 
tered. Then  he  slowly  slouched  out,  muttering 
to  himself,  with  the  flapping  brim  of  his  hat  well 
pulled  down  over  his  bright  young  eyes. 

"  You  will  make  a  lovely  picture  in  that  charm- 
ing dress,"  Lucia  said  blandly,  as  Lloyd  stepped 
here  and  there,  pulling  at  the  curtain  to  get  a  better 
light. 

"  It's  all  wore  an'  tore,"  Clotilda  said  depre- 
catingly.  She  did  not  doubt  the  admiration  of  the 
men,  but  she  was  all  abashed  and  awkward  in  this 
presence  of  dainty  feminine  elegance.  She  scanned 
the  two  openly,  as  if  comparing  their  traits.  Then 
she  fixed  her  eyes  sedulously  on  Lucia.  Her  face 
was  so  out  of  drawing  with  this  heavy,  dully  pon- 
dering, loutish  expression,  so  incongruous  with  the 
poetic  charm  she  had  wrought,  that  Miss  Laniston 
suggested : 

"  Sing — sing  a  line  or  two  of  that  pretty  song — 
sing,  and  dance  a  few  steps." 

The  girl  lifted  her  docile  head,  sprang  lightly 
into  the  air,  her  fresh  young  voice  floated  out  and 
suddenly  the  camera  clicked. 

"  That  is  all,  and  when  I  get  the  pictures  out  I 
will  come  and  see  you  and  bring  some  of  them  to 
you.  This  gentleman  tells  me  you  live  near  by 
in  the  mountains.     Where  is  your  home?" 

"  He  knows.  He'll  kem  an'  guide  you," 
Clotilda  easily  promised  for  him. 

Lucia  turned  to  Lloyd,  with  her  most  en- 
trancing  smile.     "  Thanks,    for  past   and   future 

197 


The  Windfall 

favours,"  she  said,  realising  the  disastrous  storm 
the  unexpected  turn  of  events  had  roused  in  Mr. 
Jardine's  conventional  soul. 

Lloyd  bowed  in  gravest  acknowledgment,  and 
as  she  stepped  down  from  the  stage  she  remaked: 

"  My  first  and  last  appearance  on  the  boards." 

"  You  graced  them,"  said  Ruth   airily. 

But  the  two  men,  heavily  silent,  said  nothing. 

Lloyd  ceremoniously  saw  them  to  the  door,  as 
if  he  had  been  entertaining  them  in  the  character 
of  host,  and  as  they  departed  he  lifted  his  hat  with 
a  dignity  all  at  variance  with  the  sudden  humorous 
cry  of  the  spieler  close  at  hand — "  He  eats  'em — 
he  eats  'em  alive !  " 

Lucia  shrugged  her  disdainful  shoulders. 

"What  an  experience!  What  a  place!  The 
incongruities  are  amazing.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in 
a  fevered  dream,  or  a  grotesque  fairy-tale." 

"  You'll  ruin  those  films  if  you  don't  look  out 
for  that  camera,"  Ruth  warned  her,  but  she  made 
no  reply  and  swung  the  camera  as  carelessly  as 
before. 


198 


CHAPTER  X 

MR  JARDINE,  seating  himself  on  the 
piazza  of  the  hotel,  which  overlooked 
the  motley  throngs  of  the  square  with 
the  salient  concomitants  of  the  mushroom  spread 
of  the  tents,  the  tawdry  ornaments  of  the  vendors' 
stands,  the  tall  mast  of  the  high  diver,  the  periph- 
ery of  the  gigantic  Ferris  Wheel  with  its  seats 
filled  with  rustics  swaying  in  the  slow  revolution 
through  the  afternoon  glow,  the  business  houses  of 
the  little  town  that  bounded  the  space  on  each 
side,  their  decorous,  sober,  orderly  appearance,  so 
alien  to  the  flurry  and  carnival  folly  of  the  streets, 
had  sufficient  need  of  the  mild  stimulant  of  his 
cigar  to  restore  the  tone  of  his  nerves  and  allay 
the  irritation  that  harassed  his  mental  processes. 
He  was  glad  of  the  silence,  for  so  he  accounted 
the  freedom  from  talk  whether  of  accost  or  reply, 
despite  the  varied  clamours  of  raucous  voices,  the 
wailing  of  infants,  the  whinnying  of  impatient 
horses,  eager  for  the  homeward  journey,  and  mind- 
ful of  supper,  as  the  waggon  teams  stood  hitched 
in  rows  to  the  courthouse  fence,  the  braying  of  the 
band,  the  stentorian  cries  of  the  spielers,  all  the  un- 
wearied activities  of  the  lungs  of  the  mountebanks. 
He  was  glad  to  be  no  longer  in  the  seat  of  the 
scornful,    to    be    continually   objecting,    deriding, 

199 


The  Windfall 

frowning  down  the  features  of  the  little  show;  if 
it  was  the  fad  of  the  young  ladies  to  entertain  their 
idleness  with  such  rubbish,  surely  for  the  nonce 
he  might  ignore  its  vapidities,  its  pitiful  poverty- 
stricken  shifts,  its  sedulous  catering  to  the  low 
capacities  of  the  common  rustic  crowd.  There 
was  much  distasteful,  even  disgusting  to  a  fas- 
tidious sense  in  its  exhibitions,  but  there  was  noth- 
ing absolutely  coarse,  and  not  the  most  remote 
suggestion  of  anything  vile.  It  was  a  clean  show, 
as  its  handbills  insistently  proclaimed.  It  need 
not  have  so  lacerated  his  sensibilities,  he  felt,  as 
the  fragrant  nicotian  solace  began  its  soothing 
effect.  To  be  sure  it  was  a  sacrifice,  a  poignant 
trial  to  his  hyper-elegant  standards  to  be  with 
Lucia  Laniston  amid  scenes  so  unworthy.  He 
would  fain  meet  her,  as  heretofore,  on  a  plane  more 
in  accord  with  the  character  of  both,  among  cir- 
cumstances that  elicited  those  charms  of  intellect 
and  culture  that  had  won  his  admiration  and  re- 
spect as  her  more  obvious  grace  and  beauty  had 
captured  his  heart.  In  his  eyes  she  united  many 
fascinations,  the  more  remarkable  because  of  her 
youth.  Her  solid,  unimpassioned  judgment,  her 
cultivated  taste,  her  very  respectable  scholastic  ac- 
quirements, gauged  from  even  a  high  educa- 
tional point  of  view,  of  which  he  had  seen  many 
evidences,  rendered  it  manifestly  impossible  that 
she  should  enjoy  the  exhibition  in  any  serious 
sense.  It  merely  furnished  a  surface  for  that 
exuberant    buoyancy    and    those    fantastic    traits 

200 


The  Windfall 

which  her  aunt  called  "  wildness,"  and  which  he 
supposed  were  the  inseparable  concomitants  of 
such  abounding  youth  and  vitality  and  joyous 
spirits.  She  was  alert  and  energetic,  and  full  of 
life  and  mirth,  and  it  was  not  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  as  of  yore,  to  set  such  a  damsel  down  to 
sew  her  sampler  by  the  fire  till  such  time,  soon 
or  late,  as  her  cavalier  came  to  claim  his  domestic 
paragon.  Things  were  different  now.  Wider 
courses  of  study,  much  travel,  athletic  recreations, 
great  liberty  of  thought  and  action  had  resulted 
in  a  wider  outlook  for  girls — and,  suddenly,  he 
doubted  if  it  made  them  happier  from  any  point 
of  view.  He  was  remembering  the  dull  depres- 
sion, the  listless  disillusionment  in  Lucia  Lanis- 
ton's  face  as  but  now  they  had  walked  to  the 
hotel  together,  and  the  ladies  had  sought  their 
rooms  for  some  freshening  of  attire  before  start- 
ing on  the  afternoon  drive  back  to  New  Helvetia. 
The  horses  were  swift  and  fresh,  and  the  distance 
was  thus  minimised;  there  was  a  new  moon  to  en- 
liven the  dusk,  the  roads  were  very  good;  the 
driver,  a  stalwart  young  fellow,  himself,  and  Frank 
Laniston,  three  men,  quietly  carrying  arms  in  con- 
formity with  the  privilege  accorded  travellers, 
were  ample  escort  for  the  ladies,  even  in  these  re- 
mote wildernesses ;  but  Jardine  was  a  prudent  man 
of  a  prompt  habit.  He  drew  out  his  watch,  and 
looked  critically  at  the  wane  of  the  day  evidenced 
in  the  skies,  bright  though  they  still  were,  begin- 
ning to  hope  that  the  usual  feminine  procrastina- 

201 


The  Windfall 

tions  might  not  so  postpone  the  hour  of  departure 
as  to  render  the  party  unduly  benighted. 

Chances  of  casualties,  a  broken  wheel,  a  horse 
going  lame,  a  mistaken  direction  in  fording  a  river, 
a  cloud  on  the  moon,  the  shattering  of  the  carriage 
lamps  in  a  blow  from  a  projecting  bough,  even  the 
unlikely  possibility  of  highway  robbers,  should 
not  be  invested  with  unnecessary  jeopardy  and 
added  danger.  He  was  at  such  a  disadvantage  in 
this  respect  as  does  not  usually  harass  the  guardian 
of  ladies.  He  was  neither  husband,  father,  nor 
brother,  to  stand,  timepiece  in  hand,  and  proclaim 
the  wasting  hour,  like  an  irate  clock.  He  could 
not  order  the  luggage  downstairs — packed  or  un- 
packed. He  could  not  threaten  that  he  would 
start  on  schedule  time,  regardless  if  all  portable 
property  were  left  behind.  Jardine  was  only  a 
friend,  as  yet,  benign,  complaisant,  and  in  no  posi- 
tion to  dictate.  Yet  he  wondered,  with  a  vexation 
which  tobacco  was  powerless  to  reach,  what  could 
be  detaining  the  ladies  in  their  preparations  for  an 
afternoon  drive  through  an  unpeopled  wilderness. 
If  it  was  a  question  of  toilette  its  effect  was  already 
a  foregone  conclusion — Ruth  had  slain  her  thou- 
sands, and  Lucia  her  tens  of  thousands — uncon- 
sciously he  was  adopting  their  own  exaggerated 
vein.  He  could  not  imagine  that  anything  of  con- 
sequence hindered  their  readiness, — only  the  usual 
feminine,  dilatory  aversion  to  be  on  time  for  any 
vicissitude  of  life.  He  began  to  feel  that  he  must 
act,  yet  he  shrank  from  encountering  the  laggards 

202 


The  Windfall 

with  admonitions  and  reproaches.  He  realised 
that  he  had  not  commended  himself  by  his  stiff 
imperviousness  to  the  simple  enjoyments  of  the 
"  lark  "  to-day,  such  as  it  was,  and  his  disdainful 
incapacity  to  enter  into  its  spirit  had  not  bettered 
it.  He  was  anxious  to  appear  no  more  as  unre- 
sponsive monitor,  full  of  warnings,  and  wise  saws, 
and  stiff  reproofs.  Where  was  Francis  Laniston? 
Naught  was  to  be  disparaged  by  thrusting  him  into 
the  jaws  of  domestic  displeasure.  Let  him  make 
the  remonstrance,  and  bear  its  resilient  blow  as 
behoved  his  position  and  relationship.  Let  the 
dilatory  ladies  wreak  their  displeasure  on  the  ur- 
gent Frank!  Animated  by  this  inhuman  resolu- 
tion, Jardine  sprang  from  his  chair  to  go  in  search 
of  Frank.  He  was  interrupted  by  the  sudden  issu- 
ance of  the  clerk  of  the  hotel,  a  young,  plump, 
blond  man,  wearing  an  immaculate  white  duck 
suit,  with  short  hair  in  a  stiff  straight  roach  above 
his  brow,  no  eyebrows — thus  he  dispensed  with 
frowns — a  long,  blunt  nose,  a  twinkling  blue-grey 
eye,  very  small  and  very  affable.  His  whole  aspect 
was  not  unducklike,  and,  as  he  remained  all  day 
behind  his  desk,  having  no  outside  vocation  to  call 
him  from  his  post,  he  was  very  speckless,  without 
even  the  creases  incident  to  a  sitting  posture,  since 
he  stood  at  his  desk,  or  perched  on  a  high  stool. 
He  might  have  been  expected  to  creak  with  starch 
as  his  brisk  short  steps  brought  him  to  the 
encounter. 

"Speak  to  you  a  moment,  Mr.  Jardine ?"  he 
203 


The  Windfall 

said,  pausing  by  a  chair,  and  leaning  with  both 
hands  on  its  back  in  his  stiff  white  garments. 
Many  men,  however  wasteful  in  general,  have 
some  saving  grace  of  frugality.  Jennings,  the 
clerk,  a  most  voluble  man,  was  nevertheless  spar- 
ing in  parts  of  speech,  and  economised  pronouns 
and  conjunctions.  This  necessitated  a  reckless  ex- 
penditure in  punctuation — commas,  colons,  periods, 
and  dashes,  but,  as  his  prelections  were  not  des- 
tined for  type,  he  did  not  realise,  perhaps,  that 
what  he  saved  at  the  spile  he  lost  at  the  bung. 
"  Considerable  storm  in  the  mountains.  Thought 
I  ought  to  let  you  know.  Heard  you  give  orders 
for  the  horses  to  be  put  to  at  once.  See  from 
east  window  of  office.  Mountains  have  been 
caught  up  in  clouds — so  to  speak.  I  tried  to  tele- 
phone to  New  Helvetia,  in  interest  of  your  party. 
— Hate  to  be  alarmist — wanted  to  find  out  what 
weather  is  doing  there.  No  answer.  Central  says 
wire  is  blown  down.  Intact  as  far  as  Crossroads. 
Tried  Mr.  Tackett,  the  storekeeper  there.  He 
says  raining  there  heavily.  Big  blow  in  the  woods 
— falling  timber — and  lightning — thought  I'd  let 
you  know." 

"  Thank  you,  very  much,"  said  Jardine,  still 
standing  with  his  watch  in  his  hand  contemplating, 
not  its  dial,  but  these  untoward  complications. 
"  Can  you  afford  us  accommodations?  I  under- 
stood this  morning  that  the  house  was  full." 

"  Thought  of  that — the  ladies  have  had  a  room 
all  day — only  one — very  large,  with  alcove — two 

204 


The  Windfall 

beds — double  room.  And  you  gentlemen — we 
have  thought  of  you — we  will  offer  you  little  blue 
parlour — best  we  can  do " 

"  And  sleep  tunefully  on  the  piano,  I  suppose," 
Frank  interpolated.  He  had  just  strolled  up,  evi- 
dently already  informed  of  the  quandary,  and  stood 
listening,  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

The  duck  laughed  with  a  short  grating  note. 

"  Folding  bed — that  handsome  cabinet  with  the 
Indian  curiosities  on  the  brackets — latest  patent. 
The  divan  is  really  a  sofa-bed,  too — you'll  be 
qualified  to  help  us  out  and  be  hospitable,  if  any 
more  single  men  drop  in  on  us,"  the  clerk  said 
tauntingly. 

"  Now  don't  you  bank  on  that.  The  little  blue 
parlour  is  my  bower,  and  don't  you  forget  it,"  said 
Frank. 

The  ladies  had  not  come  prepared  to  stay  the 
night,  but  Mrs.  Laniston  remembered  that  in  going 
to  New  Helvetia  in  June  she  had  left  a  steamer 
trunk  here,  after  her  European  voyage,  filled  with 
heavier  wear  than  would  be  needed  before  autumn. 
According  to  the  accommodating  methods  of  the 
hotel,  it  had  been  received  and  stored  in  the  attic, 
and  now  it  was  brought  down  in  the  nick  of  time, 
to  the  delight  of  the  young  ladies,  who  hoped  that  it 
might  contain  something  that  they  might  borrow, 
in  addition  to  the  absolutely  necessary  parapher- 
nalia for  the  night.  As  soon  as  Mrs.  Laniston 
showed  some  natural  disposition  to  defend  her 
belongings  from  these  unwarranted  depredations, 

205 


The  Windfall 

they  became  "  possessed,"  as  she  expressed  it,  to 
see  what  she  had  in  her  trunk,  and,  having  all  the 
desire  in  the  world  to  maintain  her  ascendency 
and  her  rights,  she  declared  she  would  not  turn 
the  key  until  they  promised  that  they  would  ask 
for  nothing  but  the  loan  of  a  nightgown  apiece. 

When  matters  had  reached  this  deadlock,  she 
seated  herself  in  a  cane  rocking-chair,  her  bunch 
of  keys  in  her  hand,  and  her  eyes  on  the  pansies 
that  papered  the  bedroom  wall.  Both  the  girls, 
in  the  trim  pleated  skirts  of  their  white  linen  suits, 
and  their  sheer  shirt  waists, — the  two  jackets  had 
been  folded  and  laid  on  one  of  the  beds  in  the  big, 
cool,  clean  room, — seemed  exceedingly  capable  of 
rummaging  exploits,  and  she  compressed  her  lips 
with  resolution  as  from  the  corner  of  her  eyes  she 
noted  their  movements,  and  their  expectant  gaze. 

"  Such  fun,  Aunt  Dora,  to  try  on  something 


new." 


"  And  something  blue,"  murmured  Ruth. 

"  Say,  Aunt  Dora,"  said  Lucia,  sparkling  with 
incredible  brilliancy  and  lustre  of  delighted  antici- 
pation, "  do  you  suppose  that  little  blue  messa- 
line  waist  of  yours  is  in  that  trunk?  I  just  live 
to  try  that  shade !  I  don't  want  to  risk  buying  any- 
thing in  it  till  I  can  try  it  on.  I  believe  it  would 
be  becoming  to  me." 

"  More  so  to  me,"  said  Ruth.  "  Anything  blue 
suits  my  blond  hair." 

"  Not  that  green  cast — it  throws  green  reflec- 
tions on  blond  hair." 

206 


The  Windfall 

"  Girls,  this  is  cruel,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston,  "  to 
keep  me  cooped  up  in  this  close  room,  while  there 
is  such  a  fresh  breeze  on  the  verandah,  and " 

11  Mr.  Jardine  waiting  to  make  love  to  you;  I 
mean  to  tell  papa."    Ruth  saucily  laughed. 

"  You  needn't  stay  here  a  minute,  Aunt  Dora. 
Just  leave  the  keys,  and  go  at  once,"  said  Lucia, 
with  the  eye  of  a  bandit. 

"  I  am  fairly  afraid  to  leave  the  trunk,"  Mrs. 
Laniston  declared.  "  You  are  capable  of  opening 
it  with  a  poker." 

Lucia  glanced  around  at  the  utensil  as  if  this 
expedient  had  not  occurred  to  her. 

"  Mr.  Jardine  must  be  waiting  for  you,  girls," 
Mrs.  Laniston  admonished  them. 

"  I  know  the  reason  you  won't  open  the  trunk 
before  us,  Aunt  Dora.  Because  you  are  going  to 
lend  him  and  Frank  some — some — petticoats !  for 
the  night — you  know !  " 

Mrs.  Laniston  tried  to  look  shocked. 

u  Lucia,  I  am  surprised,"  she  said. 

11  Why,  I  am  only  talking  to  you,  Aunt  Dora. 
I  would  not  bring  a  blush  to  the  antique  cheek 
of  Mr.  Jardine  for  the  world,"  she  gravely  pro- 
tested. 

"  Much  cheek  as  he  has  got,"  Ruth  gurgled. 

"  As  for  Frank,  his  brazen  athletics  have  made 
his  cheek  a  permanent  cardinal  red,  and  he  could 
not  blush  if  he  would." 

Mrs.  Laniston  broke  into  an  unwilling  laugh. 

"  You  two  will  be  the  death  of  me !  " 
207 


The  Windfall 

"  But  what  will  Frank  and  the  other  gentle- 
man do?  "  queried  Frank's  sister. 

"  My  dear,  you  mustn't  inquire  into  such  mat- 
ters. Frank  told  me  they  would  furnish  them- 
selves at  a  clothier's  here,  where  they  have  ready- 
made  garments  for  sale." 

"  It  may  be  indelicate,"  said  Lucia,  "  but  I 
would  rather  picture  them  arrayed  in  ready-made 
nightgowns,  bought  in  the  metropolis  of  Colbury, 
than  standing  stiffly  up  on  end,  dressed  in  their 
usual  attire  all  night.    It  is  more  humane." 

Mrs.  Laniston  burst  out  laughing. 

"  There !  "  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  rising  and 
starting  to  the  door,  throwing  the  bunch  of  keys 
on  the  floor.  "  I  beg  and  pray  you  to  let  my 
things  alone,  and,  if  you  rummage  through  them, 
you  do  so  without  my  consent,  that's  all." 

Her  last  glance  into  the  room  was  not  reas- 
suring. The  lid  of  the  precious  trunk  was  al- 
ready lifted,  and  the  two  girls  on  their  knees  before 
it  were  diving  into  its  contents,  shouldering  each 
other  in  their  eagerness,  their  countenances  alight 
with  keen  curiosity  and  greedy  expectancy  of 
novelty. 

Mrs.  Laniston  gave  a  sketch  of  their  employ- 
ment when  she  joined  Jardine  and  Frank  on  the 
verandah  outside  the  door  of  the  large  parlour. 
They  had  drawn  forth  a  wicker  rocking-chair  for 
her  from  that  apartment,  and  here,  quietly  and 
safely  ensconced,   she  watched  the  evidences  of 

208 


The  Windfall 

storm  to  the  east,  as  she  swayed  to  and  fro,  with 
devout  thankfulness  that  they  had  escaped  its  fury. 

"  How  lucky  that  we  did  not  start  half  an  hour 
ago,"  she  sard.  "  We  should  have  been  in  the 
thick  of  it." 

"  I  hope  you  didn't  say  so  to  those  girls,"  cried 
Frank.  "  They  will  make  it  a  reason  to  be  behind 
time  for  ever  more — the  dangers  they  escaped  by 
never  being  ready !  " 

A  grey  curtain  of  cloud  had  fallen  over  the 
familiar  scene  to  the  east.  It  was  null,  inexpres- 
sive, motionless.  It  cut  off  the  field  of  vision. 
There  was  no  trace  of  mountain  forms,  of  inter- 
venient  valleys  and  coves.  There  might  seem 
naught  beyond — some  prairie  country,  this,  whose 
low  horizon  brought  down  the  sky  to  a  level  with 
the  plain.  Only  now  and  then  on  the  impalpable 
nullity  was  a  flicker  of  red  fire;  in  irregular  zig- 
zag lines  it  pulsed,  and  once  and  again  the  thunders 
of  the  remote  tempest  shook  the  sun-beams 
here.  The  gay  carnival  crowds  in  the  square 
heeded  the  storm  that  burst  elsewhere  as  little  as 
sunshine  ever  cares  for  shadow.  The  con- 
trast reminded  her,  Mrs.  Laniston  said,  of  the 
indifference  of  the  happy  in  the  world  to  the  sad- 
ness of  others.  Their  storms  are  brewing  in  the 
clouded  future,  to  burst  sometime,  but  all  un- 
prescient  and  unsympathising  they  sport  like  small 
insects  of  the  stinging  varieties — gnats,  and  gad- 
flies, and  wasps — in  the  glamour  of  to-day.     "  I 

209 


The  Windfall 

think  happiness,  prosperity,  give  a  sense  of  su- 
periority. No  doubt  sorrow  and  adversity  dis- 
cipline the  heart  and  soul  and  temperament,  and 
form  and  strengthen  the  character;  but  any  of  us 
would  rather  be  inferior  than  perfected  at  such 
a  cost  to  comfort.  I  think  the  world  is  less  and 
less  ambitious  of  realising  in  one's  self  high  stand- 
ards and  spiritual  elevation.  People  only  care  to 
be  thought  fortunate  and  envied,  now — not  to  be 
noble,  in  spite  of  all  that  fate  can  do." 

Mrs.  Laniston  loved  to  moralise  after  a  fashion. 
Much  feminine  club  life  had  liberated  a  certain 
facility  of  expression,  and  she  was  an  ornament  to 
the  rostrum,  for  she  had  a  good  voice,  a  low- 
pitched  contralto,  and  a  very  agreeable  and  distinct 
enunciation  and  intonation,  which  were  natural 
endowments,  but  which  sounded  like  the  product 
of  training.  She  had  taken  no  pains  to  become  an 
impressive  speaker,  but  she  rather  liked  the  sense 
of  superiority  the  reputation  fostered,  and  she 
had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  analysing  her  impres- 
sions, and  setting  them  in  order. 

"  Gee !  wouldn't  I  hate  to  have  such  a  rum 
lot  of  reflections  as  all  that,  just  because  New 
Helvetia  is  getting  it  in  the  neck.  My!  did  you 
see  that  flash !  "  said  Frank. 

"  And  wouldn't  I  hate  to  have  such  a  '  rum  lot ' 
of  expressions  if  I  was  entering  my  junior  year 
at  college,  and  expected  to  compete  for  the  medal 
for  oratory,"  his  mother  retorted. 

Jardine  laughed.  "  Slang  is  more  and  more  in- 
210 


The  Windfall 

corporated  into  the  language  every  year,"  he 
said. 

"  Yes,"  she  assented,  "  and  it  is  used  by  a  class 
of  persons  who  were  formerly  far  more  exacting. 
It  seems  to  be  considered  to  impart  a  sort  of  rude 
strength  to  phraseology,  and  a  shade  of  meaning 
otherwise  impracticable.  It  affects  to  be  hearty, 
and  downright,  and  candid.  Whereas  it  is  noth- 
ing but  slip-shod,  and  out-at-elbows,  and  a  slovenly 
expression  of  down-at-heel  ideas — sometimes  lack 
of  ideas.  I  think  there  ought  to  be  some  reform, 
some  united  action  on  the  part  of  people  who  ap- 
preciate the  art  of  conversation,  the  fit  phrasing 
of  thoughts  of  value." 

"  The  Federation  of  Women's  Clubs  might  get 
on  to  it,"  Frank  suggested. 

His  mother  went  on  without  noticing  him. 

"  In  fact,  Mr.  Jardine,  all  the  standards  are 
down.  Now,  when  I  was  young — it  has  not  been 
so  very  many  years — it  was  the  extreme  of  uncouth- 
ness  for  a  lady  to  swing  her  arms  in  walking.  At 
present  they  swing  both  arms,  if  you  please,  as  if 
these  adjuncts  were  propellers,  and  to  and  fro  they 
work  their  progress  thus  along  the  street,  instead 
of  walking  naturally  and  gracefully.  I  thought 
for  a  time  that  this  was  a  peculiarity  of  college 
towns,  and  of  the  athletic  craze;  but  you  see 
everywhere  the  poor  wretch,  swinging  all  loose 
from  the  shoulder.  I  have  told  my  girls  that  I  will 
not  tolerate  this  gaucherie — they  try  to  do  it  from 
perversity — but  happily  they  can't  remember  it 

211 


The  Windfall 

always.  Then  the  young  men  are  not  more  elegant. 
Things,  in  the  similitude  of  gentlemen,  whistle 
upon  the  streets !  " 

"  Conscience  stricken !  "  said  Frank,  with  a 
grimace. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  for  you,  dear,"  said  his 
mother.  "  I  should  have  to  feel  much  more  fit 
than  I  do  to-day  to  tackle  your  long  list  of 
enormities." 

This  was  as  an  aside,  an  interlude.  She  had  a 
sudden  perception  of  another  phase  of  the  subject, 
and  forthwith  entered  upon  it. 

"  Then,  this  lack  of  standard  is  obvious  in 
matters  of  far  more  importance — it  enters  the 
domestic  circle.  I  suppose  no  one  ever  found 
housekeeping  very  great  fun,  but  in  my  young 
days  nobody  ever  protested.  There  may  have  been 
shirks,  but  they  hid  their  misdeeds.  Now,  there 
is  a  clamour  of  open  detestation  of  all  domestic 
concerns.  It  began  with  the  caterer;  in  old  times 
one's  own  establishment  was  competent  to  furnish 
the  refreshments  of  every  entertainment — to  have 
cakes  baked  or  ices  frozen  out  of  one's  own 
house  would  be  a  confession  of  being  beyond 
one's  depth,  and  of  seeking  to  entertain  more 
elaborately  and  making  more  pretensions  than  one 
was  entitled  to  sustain.  A  household  valued  its 
reputation  for  fine  dinners,  and  elaborate  refresh- 
ments at  dancing  parties;  people  even  had  spe- 
cialties that  you  saw  nowhere  else,  and  were  some- 
times grudging  of  receipts,  and  kept  some  choice 

212 


The  Windfall 

concoctions  a  dead  secret.  To  have  additional 
waiters  hired  for  the  occasion — unless  indeed  it 
were  a  ball — was  unheard  of  in  houses  of  good 
style.  Then,  when  the  caterer  was  fairly  estab- 
lished, the  expense  accounts  came  in  and  cut  down 
the  menu " 

"  Till  it  got  down  to  the  delectable  cup  of  tea 
and  the  midget  sandwich,  with  an  appetising  baby 
ribbon  round  its  tum-tum,"  interpolated  Frank. 

"  Be  still,  Francis.  In  old  times  every  article 
must  be  perfection — the  heads  of  families  would 
be  bowed  in  shame  if  aught  were  amiss  with  cook- 
ing or  service — but  now  it  is  all  the  caterer's  affair, 
even  the  decorations — sometimes  actually  the 
china." 

Mr.  Jardine  was  fully  ten  years  Mrs.  Laniston's 
junior,  but  he  was  sufficiently  retrospective,  and  his 
experience  sufficiently  extensive  in  days  gone  by,  to 
make  him  interested  in  her  animadversions  on  the 
present,  and  her  theory  of  the  superiority  of  the 
past.  He  was  of  a  temperament  older  than  his 
age,  and  he  sympathised  rather  with  the  stately 
methods  of  yore  than  the  less  exacting  fashions  of 
the  present  day.  Thus  he  found  it  no  hardship  to 
moralise  on  the  signs  of  the  times,  with  his  cigar 
graciously  permitted,  and  his  eyes  on  the  far-away 
storm,  with  an  interlocutor  intelligent  enough  to 
evolve  and  present  subjects  of  sufficient  interest  to 
titillate  his  understanding,  requiring  no  exertion  on 
his  part,  and  loquacious  enough  to  discuss  them 
with  an  ability  which  did  not  call  for  interference, 

213! 


The  Windfall 

or  contradiction,  or  instruction  from  him.  His 
was  a  facile  acquiescence,  and  Mrs.  Laniston,  ac- 
customed to  talk  for  time,  while  some  factional 
whips  of  one  of  her  clubs  awaited  the  appearance 
of  dilatory  voters,  before  a  momentous  question 
should  be  put  to  the  arbitration  of  the  majority, 
had  by  no  means  exhausted  the  suggestions  the  out- 
look presented  to  her  discerning  contemplation. 

"  Now  here  is  another  phase  that  appeals  more 
directly  to  you  than  to  me,  Mr.  Jardine.  I  will 
venture  to  say  that  in  the  last  ten  years,  since 
your  college  days  in  fact,  there  has  supervened 
a  total  change  in  the  popular  estimate  of  youth. 
Formerly  in  society  it  was  the  young  man  with 
the  reputation  for  talent  who  was  in  the  ascendant. 
Merely  rich  men  had  to  stand  back.  You  must 
have  known  intellectual  young  fellows  who  enjoyed 
all  the  prestige  of  achievement,  a  positive  value, 
merely  on  the  strength  of  their  glowing  promise 
of  development.  A  man  was  said  to  be  talented 
— this  reputation  lifted  him  into  a  prominence  that 
naught  else  could  compass.  People  spoke  of  him 
with  respect.  If  a  girl  desired  to  marry  a  man 
of  that  sort,  yet  in  college,  or  new  to  the  bar,  it 
was  considered  a  safe  thing  even  if  he  were  poor 
— so  sure  he  was  to  make  his  mark.  Now-a-days 
they  live  a  life  apart  as  students;  a  career  is  not 
the  focus  of  their  regards.  Their  identity  is  com- 
passed  in   their  position   as  back-stop,    or   stop- 

gap " 

"Oh,  hi!"  interpolated  Frank. 
214 


The  Windfall 

" — Or  whatever  it  may  be  called  in  their  in- 
sufferable jargon.  A  young  man  who  goes  to  col- 
lege to  study,  and  who  does  it,  is  contemned  as 
a  grind.  Such  a  thing  as  taking  exercise  for  health 
merely  in  order  to  be  able  to  study,  to  clear  the 
brain — like  a  horseback  ride,  or  a  long  walk — is 
antiquated.  They  exercise  for  the  play — as  if 
their  playing  days  were  not  over;  for  the  com- 
petition— the  great  children!  My  Frank  there 
would  rather  lead  the  sprinters  in  the  track  team 
than  win  the  medal  for  oratory " 

Frank  did  not  deny  this. 

" — And  he  would  be  more  envied  and  thought 
a  better  man  than  the  medalist." 

"  If  I  don't  get  some  sprinting  training  this  fall, 
they'll  shunt  me  off  the  track  team,"  said  Frank, 
his  face  falling  with  a  sudden  anxious  monition. 

"  I  perceive  the  same  trait  in  the  professions, 
Mr.  Jardine.  No  longer  do  you  see  a  politician 
pointed  out  as  a  close  and  powerful  debater,  or  a 
lawyer  as  a  cogent  reasoner.  Why,  they  used  to 
make  all  manner  of  discriminations  in  a  man's 
mental  endowments.  One  was  no  lawyer,  but  a 
popular  speaker — could  carry  a  jury  with  him 
against  both  law  and  fact;  another  had  no  elo- 
quence, nor  appreciation  of  principles,  but  was 
grounded  in  case  learning  and  precedent;  another 
had  a  splendid  choice  of  words,  and  a  magnetic 
presence,  and  a  gift  of  oratory — and  the  house 
would  be  crowded  whenever  he  spoke.  Now,  they 
tell  me  a  judge  would  virtually  order  such  an 

"Si 


The  Windfall 

orator  to  sit  down — ask  him  to  come  to  the  point, 
or  to  be  brief.  They  consider  all  this  too  flam- 
boyant— spread-eagleism." 

"  There  does  seem  a  great  change  in  recent 
years,"  said  Jardine,  ceasing  his  thoughtful  puffing 
of  his  cigar,  taking  it  out  of  his  mouth  and  looking 
critically  at  its  ash;  "there  are  now  no  world- 
famous  orators,  very  few  politicians  of  real  parts, 
rarely  indeed  a  statesman;  the  notable  lawyers 
are  mostly  old  men  of  other  days,  of  other  tra- 
ditions." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston,  admirably  ca- 
pable of  presenting  the  antithesis,  "  though  im- 
agination, aestheticism,  hero-worship,  ambition,  all 
the  aspirations  are  dead,  this  is  pre-eminently  the 
age  of  the  fake  and  the  blatherskite.  People  are 
capable  of  credulity,  but  not  of  credence.  They 
are  superstitious,  but  they  have  no  faith.  The 
'  isms '  of  any  fantastic  sort  will  flourish,  and  the 
churches  are  empty.  The  adoption  of  queer  creeds, 
of  fake  cures,  of  quack  medicines,  of  dangerous 
beautifiers,  of  impossible  methods  of  learning,  of 
absurd  processes  of  art  and  illustration,  of  fan- 
tastic devices  in  edibles  would  abash  the  pretended 
miracle  workers  of  the  Middle  Ages.  You  can 
scarcely  buy  a  yard  of  genuine  goods  or  a  pound 
of  unadulterated  food.  People  don't  care  for  read- 
ing as  they  once  did;  the  art  of  conversation 
is  dead;  nobody  writes  letters  any  more — your 
friends  send  you  souvenir  postcards." 

She  fanned  silently  a  few  moments,  her  deli- 
216 


The  Windfall 

cate,  diamonded  hand  all  the  more  dainty  for  the 
simulation  of  a  man's  shirtsleeve  and  cuff,  which 
her  plaited  linen  blouse  affected,  her  eyes  fixed  on 
the  panorama  of  storm  on  the  horizon  while  the 
air  here  was  so  suave  that  the  grey-streaked  curls 
on  her  brow  did  not  stir  with  the  motion  of  her 
rocking.  She  suddenly  resumed,  interested  in 
another  branch  of  the  subject. 

"  Instead  of  the  solid  business  of  education,  that 
ought  to  be  as  solemn  as  prayer,  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge  and  the  mental  training  for  the 
battle  of  life  being  held  up  as  a  great  opportunity 
and  privilege  for  the  young,  it  is  made  attractive, 
alluring,  easy;  the  fakers  have  found  that  royal 
road  to  learning.  I  was  dismayed  when  I  had  got 
Lucia  and  Ruth  beyond  the  geography,  and  spell- 
ing, and  arithmetic  phase.  I  said  to  them,  *  Now, 
if  you  don't  want  to  learn  anything  further,  you 
can  stay  at  home,  but  every  day  that  you  do  stay 
at  home  you  shall  sew — plain  sewing — from  morn- 
ing till  night'  Mr.  Laniston  said  I  ought  to  be 
prosecuted  for  cruelty  to  animals.  But  they  de- 
veloped into  quite  hard  students.  They  balked 
just  enough  to  get  a  bowing  acquaintance  with 
needle  and  thimble.  I  had  my  way — I  hate  half 
measures.  They  know  what  they  do  know,  thor- 
oughly. I  can't  tolerate  incompetence.  Unless  a 
thing  is  excellent  in  its  way  I  can  make  no  terms 
with  it,  no  allowance  because  of  partiality  or  af- 
fection. Now,  Mr.  Laniston  loves  music,  and  he 
knows  something  about  it.     But  he  would  sit  and 

217 


The  Windfall 

listen,  with  all  the  delight  in  life,  to  Ruth  as  she 
bleated  out  of  time  and  tune — the  poor  child  has 
no  voice  and  no  taste — her  talent  is  for  painting. 
But  I  stopped  that.  I  said,  '  Because  her  lispings 
please  you,  she  shan't  make  a  show  of  herself/ 
And  I  stopped  the  lessons.  Lucia  is  altogether  dif- 
ferent, a  fine  voice  and  a  fine  ear,  but  she  can't 
draw  a  straight  line.  So  she  had  every  musical 
advantage,  and  I  saw  to  it  that  she  availed  herself 
of  them.  We  had  many  a  battle  royal.  *  The  sons 
of  harmony  came  to  cuffs,'  "  she  quoted,  with  a 
laugh. 

The  accession  of  Mr.  Jardine's  interest  was  so 
apparent  when  Mrs.  Laniston  spoke  of  Lucia  that 
she  might  have  been  tempted  to  continue  the  sub- 
ject, for  she  made  a  point  of  deserving  her  rep- 
utation as  an  agreeable  woman,  had  not  the 
young  lady  in  question  suddenly  issued  from  the 
door  of  the  hotel.  Her  cousin  Ruth  was  following, 
and,  after  a  glance  of  inquiry,  they  smilingly  took 
their  way  along  the  verandah  toward  the  door  of 
the  ladies'  parlour,  where  the  party  sat.  The 
eyes  of  both  were  intently  fixed  on  Mrs.  Laniston, 
as  if  in  anticipation  of  some  effect,  she  scarcely 
knew  what.  Suddenly  she  remembered  the  plun- 
dered trunk,  left  defenceless  at  their  mercy.  Mr. 
Jardine  was  devoutly  grateful  that  they  had  seen 
fit  to  remove  their  hats.  He  was  priggish,  even 
old-fashioned  in  certain  persuasions,  and  the  sight 
of  a  young  lady  at  table,  on  the  verandah,  at 
the  piano,  all  day,  in  a  hat,  was  at  variance  with 

2l8 


The  Windfall 

his  taste.  He  had  no  idea  that  the  hats  had  dis- 
appeared because  of  an  incongruity  with  adjuncts, 
very  lately  assumed,  of  the  white  dresses.  The 
jacket  of  Lucia's  gown  had  been  laid  aside,  and 
she  now  wore,  in  lieu  of  the  plain  white  linen 
blouse,  one  of  fine  white  Irish  lace.  It  had  dainty 
elbow  sleeves  (Mrs.  Laniston  still  conserved  a 
plump  arm).  It  had  a  belt,  a  stock  collar,  and  at 
each  elbow  a  knot  of  delicately  tinted  ribbons  of  a 
sea-shell  pink,  with  rainbow  stripes  of  faint  blue, 
brown,  fawn,  and  a  thread  of  red.  Nothing  could 
have  better  accorded  with  the  fair,  fresh  complex- 
ion, the  brown  hair,  in  a  luxuriant  pompadour  roll, 
half  crushed  down  on  one  side  of  the  forehead,  the 
long,  romantic,  dark  grey  eyes,  with  their  droop- 
ing black  lashes.  He  could  not  imagine  why  they 
should  be  received  in  such  cold  silence  by  this 
woman,  with  her  evident  motherly  doting  on 
them  both.  Ruth  was  a  bit  the  more  showy;  she 
had  confiscated  a  bolero  of  alternate  lace  inser- 
tion and  lilac  ribbon,  and  she  had  found  a  lilac 
ribbon  for  her  blond  hair.  Mrs.  Laniston  had  a 
moment  of  wonder  as  to  where  that  blue  messaline 
waist  could  be — certainly  it  had  not  been  in  that 
trunk!  Since  she  remained  silent,  Mr.  Jardine's 
manner  was  marked  with  an  accession  of  humor- 
ous cordiality  as  he  rose  and  placed  chairs  for 
the  two. 

"  And  what  are  the  commands  of  your  lady- 
ship for  this  evening  ?  "  he  said,  looking  admir- 
ingly at  Lucia. 

219 


The  Windfall 

"  The  Ferris  Wheel,  of  course !  "  she  exclaimed, 
with  enthusiasm. 

He  could  have  fallen  on  the  spot.  He  had 
ignored  the  Ferris  Wheel,  and  he  had  rested 
supine  in  the  fatuous  conviction  that  she  had 
forgotten  it.  He  was  indescribably  tired  of  the 
street  fair.  Its  inanities  would  have  been  insup- 
portable to  a  man  of  his  type  in  its  best  estate, 
but  hampered  with  the  thousand  sensitive  points 
that  beset  the  escort  of  a  lady  in  an  amuse- 
ment utterly  beneath  her  pretensions  and  custom, 
so  remote  from  her  comprehension  that  she  was  as 
if  on  another  planet,  made  heavy  draughts  on  his 
amiability,  his  endurance,  even  his  savoir  faire. 
He  hardly  knew  how  to  meet  the  unprecedented 
problem  it  presented  in  the  interest  of  his  fair 
charges.  If  he  had  had  his  way  neither  should 
have  shown  her  face  in  so  motley  a  throng.  But 
he  was  exacting,  a  bit  old-fashioned,  and  had  not 
even  Mrs.  Laniston's  philosophy  that  would  give 
them  a  little  line  in  matters  of  scant  importance 
that  she  might  more  easily  curb  them  when  circum- 
stances required  this.  They  would  soon  tire  of 
a  harmless  folly,  but  a  monotony  of  dulness  could 
not  be  maintained.  The  prospect  of  further  ex- 
periences of  the  street  fair  strained  the  tension  of 
his  equanimity  almost  to  the  breaking  point.  He 
could  scarcely  endure  the  thought  how  nearly  they 
had  escaped  it  all ;  a  little  more — but  for  the  cause- 
less delay  of  their  preparations — and  the  "  hack," 
with  its  strong,  fleet  horses  would  have  been  at 

220 


The  Windfall 

the  door.  To  be  sure  it  would  have  whirled  them 
into  the  midst  of  the  mountain  storm,  but  the 
thought  of  wind  and  lightning,  thunder  and  tor- 
rents of  rain  was  less  abhorrent  to  him  at  that 
moment  than  the  recurrence  of  the  trials  of  the 
"  show." 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed!"  Ruth  chimed  in.  "How 
glad  I  am  we  couldn't  get  off — we  would  have 
missed  the  ride  on  the  Ferris  Wheel,  the  cream 
of  the  whole  correspondence." 

It  was  a  relief  when  he  discovered  that  they 
had  no  intention  of  sallying  forth  for  that  enjoy- 
ment until  after  the  early  supper  of  the  little  hos- 
telry. There  was  a  possibility  that  something 
might  occur  in  the  interval — rain,  wind,  earth- 
quake, he  hardly  cared,  so  keen,  so  nettling  was 
his  irritation,  and  his  desire  to  obstruct  their  fell 
purpose,  to  keep  them  within  doors,  decorously 
spending  the  evening  in  conversation  with  their 
own  exclusive  party,  or,  so  long  as  the  little 
blue  parlour  remained  open  for  the  general  use 
of  the  guests  of  the  hotel,  a  quiet  game  of  bridge, 
in  its  quasi  retirement.  Mrs.  Laniston  and  he 
were  often  partners  at  this  delectable  pastime,  and 
the  two  girls  delighted  to  combine  their  science, 
luck,  even  chicanery,  against  them.  The  delay 
restored  his  equanimity  for  the  nonce,  but  his  look 
of  annoyance  had  been  so  palpable  that  Mrs. 
Laniston  thought  a  remonstrance  in  order,  when 
she  could  speak  aside  to  one  of  the  young  ladies. 

"I  wouldn't  insist  on  the  Ferris  Wheel,"  she 
22  ii 


The  Windfall 

said  to  Lucia,  as  they  walked  through  the  ladies' 
parlour;  the  verandah  had  become  unpleasantly 
crowded;  the  evening  intermission  had  super- 
vened at  the  fair;  the  wickets  were  closed;  the 
lamps  were  not  yet  lighted,  and  the  sunset  glow 
was  dulling  into  twilight.  However  removed  from 
the  normal  estate  of  mankind,  the  living  skeleton 
and  the  fat  lady  must  eat,  rest  a  bit,  quench  their 
thirst,  and  sigh  against  the  ridicule  of  Fate.  It 
was  one  of  the  unadvertised  features  of  the  show, 
considered  amusing  or  pathetic  according  to  the  in- 
dividual temperament  of  the  spectator,  that  the  fat 
lady,  who,  poor  soul,  had  not  her  nerves  under  the 
best  control,  burst  into  tears,  ever  and  anon,  and 
her  mountain  of  flesh  shook  and  trembled  with 
sobs.  She  had  an  aesthetic  mind,  and  was  sensi- 
tive to  ridicule  and  the  wonderment  of  the  crowd, 
and  would  fain  have  been  beautiful  and  admired 
rather  than  have  filled  her  purse  with  gold.  She 
needed  a  respite  to  bathe  her  eyes  and  readjust 
her  tawdry  finery,  and  hearken  to  the  consolations 
of  her  attendant.  The  boa  constrictor,  gorged,  had 
coiled  up,  and  was  lost  in  the  torpor  of  digestion 
and  the  recuperation  of  sleep.  The  spielers  had 
cast  aside  their  horns;  one  or  two  were  in  the  drug 
store,  busy  in  swallowing  the  unpalatable  vaseline 
for  their  throats;  the  Ferris  Wheel  was  empty  and 
still  for  the  nonce;  the  rural  visitors  of  the  more 
prosperous  class  who  could  sustain  the  added  ex- 
pense of  the  hotel,  detained  also  by  the  storm  in 
the  mountains,  were  trooping  up  the  steps  and 

222 


The  Windfall 

sauntering  along  the  verandah.  Their  ladies  were 
ensconced  in  numbers  in  the  rocking  chairs  of  the 
large  parlour.  It  had  occurred  to  Jardine  that 
the  garden  walks  were  probably  solitary  and  at- 
tractive at  this  hour,  and  he  suggested  repairing 
thither.  As  the  party  emerged  into  the  fragrant 
flowery  paths,  Mrs.  Laniston  continued  her  aside 
to  her  niece. 

"  I  fancy  Mr.  Jardine  considers  the  Ferris 
Wheel  undignified." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  dignity  about  it,"  said 
Lucia  coldly.  "  It  is  the  simple  amusement  of  a 
simple  little  fair.  If  we  see  fit  to  break  the  monot- 
ony of  our  detention  at  New  Helvetia  by  visiting 
a  countryside  fete,  new  to  our  experience,  and  so 
far  interesting,  and  by  participating  in  such  a  de- 
gree as  pleases  us,  it  is  not  an  appropriate  subject 
for  his  criticism." 

Mrs.  Laniston  was  struck  with  the  justice  of  this 
observation.  "  But  don't  be  too  independent," 
she  admonished  the  young  lady,  for  Mr.  Jardine 
was  a  very  good  match  from  a  worldly  point  of 
view. 

"  I  do  not  need  his  assistance  to  preserve  my 
dignity,"  she  retorted.  Thus  she  walked  on  with 
her  head  held  very  high,  and  an  added  stateliness 
of  carriage  that  comported  well  with  her  fine  height 
and  her  slender,  willowy  figure. 

The  sunset  glow  was  still  reddening  among  the 
dark,  luxuriant  shrubs.  In  the  few  locust  trees 
the  wreaths  of  honeysuckle  vines,  that  clambered  up 

223 


The  Windfall 

to  the  lowest  boughs  and  festooned  the  space  from 
one  to  another,  were  in  the  fall  blooming — all 
the  world  was  pervaded  with  that  sweet  reminis- 
cent fragrance  of  spring.  There  were  late  roses, 
too,  of  an  old-fashioned  kind,  pink  and  white,  and 
one,  "  the  giant  of  battles,"  had  dark-red  velvet 
petals,  and  an  odour  as  of  an  exquisite  distillation 
of  all  the  hoarded  sweetness  and  sunshine  of  sum- 
mer; it  furnished  a  rich  note  of  colour  to  Lucia's 
brown  hair,  where  it  clung  with  its  thorns  and 
leaves  with  as  artless  an  effect  as  if  it  had  been 
blown  thither  by  the  breeze,  coming  more  freshly 
now  from  the  dusky  reaches  of  the  east.  The  sky 
was  still  perceptibly  a  faint  blue,  but  here  and 
there  the  crystalline  scintillation  of  a  white  star 
trembled,  and  the  red  was  fast  dying  out  of  the 
west.  As  the  party,  two  by  two,  paced  slowly 
along  the  pleached  alleys,  Jardine  became  aware  of 
a  change  in  Lucia's  manner  toward  him.  In  one 
instant  every  other  consideration  was  annulled. 
With  absent,  reflective  eyes  he  meditated  for  a 
moment,  fumbling  mentally  for  the  cause.  Then, 
with  the  quickened  divination  of  a  lover,  he  sur- 
mised the  betrayal  of  his  disaffection,  and  Mrs. 
Laniston's  politic  admonition.  He  did  not  realise 
that  she  prudently  considered  his  eligibility,  but 
only  that  she  feared  that  it  might  not  prove  agree- 
able to  go  about  pleasuring  in  a  humble  way 
with  an  escort  who  openly  scorned  the  simple  di- 
version. Despite  Mrs.  Laniston's  bland  gracious- 
ness,  he  was  indignant  that  she  should  have  inter- 

224 


The  Windfall 

fered.  His  fastidiousness  had  fallen  from  him 
as  if  he  had  never  entertained  so  finicky  a  disdain, 
as  it  seemed  to  him  now.  Rather  than  displease 
Lucia,  than  incur  her  resentment,  he  would  have 
taken  a  turn  on  Ixion's  wheel — the  safe  and  health- 
ful revolution  of  the  monster  circumference 
glimpsed  over  the  hotel  roof  was,  indeed,  a  minute 
sacrifice  to  afford  her  the  girlish  fun,  the  simple 
pleasure  she  found,  like  a  child,  in  simple  things. 
It  was  her  unspoiled  taste,  he  now  said  to  himself, 
her  fund  of  good  humour,  her  indulgent,  uncritical 
attitude  toward  the  humble  folk,  that  could  for- 
bear ridicule,  and  share  their  pleasure  in  little 
things — all  added  a  grace  to  her  metropolitan  ex- 
perience, her  travel,  her  culture;  she  saw  good 
in  everything,  because  she  saw  the  reflection  of  her 
own  warm  heart,  and  her  own  pure  mind. 

Jardine  was  not  unskilled  in  casuistry.  It  would 
have  been  his  instinct  to  cast  himself  on  his  knees 
at  her  feet,  and  beg  her  forgiveness,  if  so  much 
as  the  glance  of  his  eye  had  offended  her,  but  he 
knew  that  confession  fixes  the  fault  in  mind,  and 
a  fault  that  is  condoned  is  not  so  obliterated  as 
one  that  is,  in  effect,  denied.  There  are  some 
affronts  that  will  not  be  expunged  by  pardon.  To 
be  tired  of  her  amusement,  to  question  her  dignity, 
to  repine  at  escorting  her  wherever  she  might  list 
to  go,  to  scorn  the  subject  that  interested  her — he 
would  not  throw  himself  on  her  generosity  with 
this  score  against  him.  He  would  annul,  disavow, 
disprove  the  impression.     He  suddenly  turned,  as 

223 


The  Windfall 

he  walked  slowly  along  with  Mrs.  Laniston,  and, 
standing  in  the  path,  impeding  the  progress  of  the 
two  young  ladies,  he  looked  straight  at  Lucia  with 
warning  eyes. 

"  Now,  I  don't  want  to  say  anything  disagree- 
able," he  cast  down  his  glance  at  the  dial  of  his 
watch  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  "  but  that  wind 
from  the  east  is  freshening  very  considerably.  It 
may  bring  rain,  and  you  two  may  risk  your  ride 
in  the  Ferris  Wheel  if  you  postpone  any  prepara- 
tions you  may  have  to  make  till  after  supper." 

He  was  quick  enough  where  his  interests  were 
concerned.  He  caught  a  swift  upbraiding  glance 
that  flashed  from  Lucia's  eyes  to  those  of  Mrs. 
Laniston,   who  looked  embarrassed. 

"  Why,  you  are  not  complimentary,"  cried  Ruth. 
11  Don't  you  see  we  are  already  bedizened  to  the 
best  of  our  ability." 

"  Won't  you  need  your  hats?  " 

Having  worn  them  when  they  were  so  little  ap- 
propriate, surely,  he  thought,  they  would  not  sally 
forth  without  them  to  ride  in  that  queer,  uplifted 
procession  of  passengers  in  the  Ferris  Wheel,  as 
if  they  had  dressed  for  the  occasion. 

"  No,  indeed,  we  can't  wear  them,"  cried  Ruth. 
"They  are  not  suited  for  lace;  we  are  wearing 
lace,  and  they  are  embroidered." 

She  looked  at  her  mother  with  such  arch  au- 
dacity that  Mrs.  Laniston  could  scarcely  refrain 
from  giving  her  a  box  on  the  ear. 

"  I  was  in  hopes  they  had  forgotten  that  miser- 
226 


Whe  Windfall 

able  Ferris  Wheel,'1  said  Mrs.  Laniston,  turning 
toward  Jardine. 

"Oh,  why?"  he  exclaimed  disingenuously. 
"  Let  them  exhaust  the  attractions  of  the  fair." 

"  Well,  since  you  will  kindly  look  after  them," 
Mrs.  Laniston's  craft  matched  his  own,  "  I  have 
no  inclination,  myself,  for  the  l  wild  wheel,  that 
lowers  the  proud.'  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  Fortune's  wheel;  this  is  Ferris's 
wheel — altogether  a  different  make;  warranted  no 
vicissitudes,"  cried  Lucia,  all  her  gay  self  again, 
and  Jardine  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  for  he  felt 
that  he  had  made  a  very  narrow  escape  of  encoun- 
tering her  resentment. 

Perhaps  he  doubted  that  the  Ferris  Wheel  was 
exempt  from  the  vicissitudes  of  the  wheel  of  for- 
tune, for,  shortly  after  the  conclusion  of  supper, 
he  hurried  them  out  upon  the  verandah,  saying  that 
the  wind  was  rising  and  he  would  not  risk  them  on 
the  machine  if  its  force  should  increase. 


227 


CHAPTER   XI 

CLOTILDA  PINNOTT  had  not  been  very 
definitely  sensitive  to  the  dull  disfavour 
with  which  the  public  had  received  hith- 
erto her  song-and-dance.  In  her  own  mind  she 
accorded  it  scarcely  more  appreciation.  She  per- 
ceived, of  course,  that  the  other  artists  enjoyed  a 
boisterous  enthusiasm  of  applause,  the  snake  eater, 
the  winged  lady,  the  high  diver,  and  their  con- 
freres, but  their  meed  of  praise  seemed  but  just, 
since  the  merits  of  their  respective  turns  were  so 
great  in  her  primitive  estimation.  Singing  and 
dancing  in  her  rustic  garb  were  but  everyday  mat- 
ters, and  she  sustained  no  great  mortification  that 
her  turn  should  be  regarded  with  scant  interest. 
She  had  not  lost  her  relish  for  the  performance, 
however;  the  praise  that  Lloyd  accorded  it  was 
sweet  in  her  ears,  though  she  secretly  thought  him 
a  fool  to  care  for  such  folly.  It  brought  him  near 
to  her  the  only  moments  in  the  day  when  he  had 
been  accessible.  And  this  had  been  both  a  surprise 
and  a  grief;  she  could  only  see  him  at  a  distance, 
coming  and  going,  absorbed  with  a  thousand  anx- 
ious details,  she  knew  not  what,  nor  wherefore; 
she  had  fancied  that  at  the  street  fair  he  would 
be  continually  at  her  side,   for  the  love  of  the 

228 


The  Windfall 

beauty  of  that  face  and  form  he  extolled  so 
enthusiastically,  that  joy  in  the  endowment  of 
voice  and  motion  he  had  found  so  poetic.  Only 
a  few  moments  before  the  turn  did  he  appear, 
stepping  lightly  on  the  stage  behind  the  drawn 
curtain,  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head,  his  face, 
of  which  she  dimly  appreciated  the  beauty  of  con- 
tour and  chiselling,  hot  and  moist,  flushed  and  a 
bit  anxious;  giving  a  word  of  direction  here  and 
there  to  the  "  supes,"  charged  with  the  manage- 
ment of  the  simple  scene;  critically  surveying  her  as 
she  stood  ready  for  the  rising  of  the  curtain.  He  al- 
ways spoke  gently  to  her;  she  vaguely  realised  that 
he  was  sharply  disappointed  by  the  public  recep- 
tion of  the  attraction,  and  that  he  sympathised 
with  her  in  the  downfall  of  her  presumable  hopes. 
She  cared  for  naught  else,  when  his  eyes  kindled 
as  he  surveyed  her  in  the  rising  glow  of  the 
lime  light. 

"You're  a  peach!"  he  would  exclaim,  "  and 
don't  you  forget  it!  The  fools  out  there  don't 
know  their  heads  from  a  hole  in  the  ground!  " 

The  joy  of  his  approbation  surged  through  her 
whole  being  as  she  looked  shyly  at  him  while  he 
stood  at  gaze,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  his 
hat  on  the  back  of  his  head.  Her  cheeks  blazed 
under  the  rouge,  laid  on  for  the  broad  effects  of 
the  lime  light;  her  eyes  shone  with  a  radiance 
that  embellished  and  vitalised  her  youthful  beauty;, 
she  trembled  from  head  to  foot  in  a  quiver  of 
humble  adoration,  of  gratified  vanity,  of  the  ec- 

229 


The  Windfall 

stasy  of  loving  and  believing  herself  beloved.  Once 
he  noticed  her  agitation. 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  pull  through  with- 
out a  touch  of  stage  fright,"  he  said  casually. 
"  Don't  think  of  the  house — soon  over." 

"  Reg'lar  buck  ager,"  Tom  Pinnott  remarked. 
One  or  another,  sometimes  several  of  the  Pinnott 
men  made  a  point  of  being  present  at  the  perform- 
ance, and  there  were  persons  at  the  street  fair 
unsophisticated  enough  to  believe  that  it  was  the 
discovery  of  the  Thespian  genius  in  their  house- 
hold, and  their  pride  and  solicitude  in  her  achieve- 
ments, that  had  brought  the  Pinnott  family  as  a 
unit  down  from  their  mountain  fastnesses  to  attend 
the  fair.  But  these  credulous  wights  hailed  from 
the  furthest  coves,  and  had  never  indeed  heard 
that  whisky  could  be  procured  by  any  means  save 
by  placing  in  a  designated  hollow  tree  a  jug,  with 
a  half  dollar  mortised  into  a  corn-cob  stopper,  and 
after  an  interval  returning  to  find  the  money  ab- 
sorbed and  the  jug  gurgling  with  tipsy  delight. 
That  the  ardent  could  be  found  in  a  store  or  a  sa- 
loon, or  dispensed  at  a  lunch  stand  was  an  idea 
that,  unassisted,  could  never  have  entered  their 
minds. 

"  Fust  time,"  continued  Tom  Pinnott  viva- 
ciously, "  I  ever  tuk  sight  at  a  buck  running  on  a 
deer  path,  by  a  stand,  my  finger  shuk  so  on  the 
trigger,  an'  my  aim  war  so  contrarious  that  the 
bullet  glanced  out  to  the  middle  of  the  ruver,  an' 
the  beastis  war  humpin'  hisself  along  so  fast  that 

230 


The  Windfall 

he  beat  it  thar,  an'  it  tuk  him  right  ahint  the  ear, 
and  killed  him.     Left  ear,  'twar." 

"  Skiddoo !  "  said  Lloyd,  laughing  slightly  at 
this  veracious  chronicle.  "  Clear  the  stage!  The 
public  is  too  well  used  to  liars  to  want  to  hear  you. 
Now,  Heart's  Delight!  listen  for  the  orchestra, 
and  mind  you  go  on  at  the  third  beat  of  the  fourth 
measure,  or  you'll  get  thrown  out.  Count! 
Count!" 

On  this  immemorial  day,  when  in  the  storm  of 
applause  that  thundered  upon  her  disappearance 
and  clamoured  for  her  return,  she  stood  in  the  lit- 
tle nook  that  served  as  wings,  stunned,  stolidly 
surprised,  overwhelmed,  forgetful  of  all  she  had 
been  taught  to  observe  for  this  contingency,  she 
did  not  shiver,  nor  tremble,  nor  sob  half  hysteric- 
ally, till  he  found  her  there. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you?"  he  exclaimed,  elated, 
full  of  pride  in  the  success  of  the  unique  attraction 
he  had  devised.    But  she  apprehended  a  reproach. 

"I  furgot — I  furgot!     An',  oh,  I'd  ruther  die 

than  spite  you  so!    Lis'n — lis'n "  as  the  gusts 

of  applause  came  with  a  roar.  "  They  sound  like 
painters  an'  wolves  of  a  stormy  night  in  the  woods." 

"  I  told  you  they'd  catch  on !  I  told  you  how 
'twould  be.  Now  look  out.  The  third  beat  of 
the  fourth  bar — count — count — now  go'n !  " 

When,  still  recalled,  and  she  was  to  go  on  for 
her  simple  bow  of  thanks,  she  cared  naught  for  the 
audience;  she  saw  only  him,  the  man  who  had 
found  her  fair  and  gifted,  had  opened  vistas  of  un- 

231 


The  Windfall 

dreamed-of  splendours,  and  had  brought  an  undis- 
covered world  to  her  feet;  she  saw  not  the  world, 
only  him,  and  the  pleasure  in  his  eyes,  and  the 
pride  and  success  to  which  she  had  ministered. 

It  was  indeed  a  strange  transition  for  the  moun- 
tain girl,  whose  vicissitudes  had  been  hitherto  the 
incidents  of  the  wood  pile  and  the  cow  pen.  Per- 
haps only  the  physical  freshness  and  vigour  ap- 
purtenant to  a  life  so  stagnantly  calm  enabled  her 
to  sustain  now  the  strenuous  rush  of  sudden  excite- 
ment. She  felt  more  sensibly  the  dull  reaction 
when  all  was  at  an  end  for  the  day.  Lloyd  had 
quickly  left  the  tent  when  the  experiment  in  pho- 
tography was  concluded,  and  the  party  from  New 
Helvetia  had  returned  to  the  hotel.  Clotilda, 
looking  after  him  with  a  keen  jealous  pang,  was 
surprised  and  somehow  consoled  to  perceive  that 
he  had  not  followed  them  thither.  A  check  on  the 
inrush  of  pride  and  gratification  in  her  heart  had 
ensued  on  the  appearance  of  the  two  young  ladies 
with  the  camera ;  but  he  had  indifferently  gone  his 
way,  and  they  had  retraced  their  footsteps.  Grad- 
ually as  she  slowly  strolled  along  the  road  lead- 
ing out  of  town  and  toward  the  encampment  of 
the  family,  these  two  fluttering,  flouncing  white 
butterflies  were  less  insistently  in  her  mind  than  the 
details  of  her  own  great  triumph,  so  tardily,  so 
hardly  won.  "  Heart's  Delight!  " — he  had  never 
before  called  her  this  and  it  seemed  so  apt,  so  dear 
a  phrase;  that  it  was  slang,  and  absolutely  with- 
out meaning,  never  occurred  to  her  for  a  minute. 

232 


The  Windfall 

She  felt  a  great  glow  of  satisfaction.  How  she 
had  justified  his  faith  in  her — his  admiration  of 
her  talents,  her  beauty  and  grace.  The  echo  of  the 
applause — no  longer  suggestive  of  the  howling  of 
wolves — sounded  anew  in  sweetest  flattery  through 
the  spaces  of  memory.  Those  elegant  strangers, 
the  sojourners  of  New  Helvetia  Springs,  were  as 
naught  before  the  crowd  in  comparison  with  her, 
the  central  figure,  dancing  to  dulcet  music  on  the 
stage,  all  illumined  with  a  burnished  golden  glow. 
Her  lips  curled  as  she  remembered  the  sudden 
pang  of  jealous  prescience  she  had  experienced — 
so  fair  they  were,  so  daintily  bedight,  holding 
themselves  with  such  delicate  hauteur  and  distance, 
embodying  a  superiority  which  she  could  not 
imagine  and  only  vaguely  felt.  But  how  should 
she  fear  a  contrast  with  aught?  She  remembered 
his  descriptive  phrases,  not  one  of  which  she  un- 
derstood, but  they  were  words  of  poesy  and  music 
on  his  lips,  applied  in  enthusiastic  admiration  of 
her.  An  oread  she  was  now,  fresh  from  unim- 
agined  heights;  and  now  a  dryad,  escaped  from  a 
tree;  and  once  more  the  most  ethereal  bacchante 
that  ever  wreathed  a  vine.  She  conned  them  again 
and  again  as  she  strolled  on.  Sometimes  she  lifted 
shining,  happy  eyes  to  the  river,  red  with  the  sun- 
set, and  here  and  there  white  with  foam  where  a 
half-submerged  boulder  or  a  ledge  of  rock  broke 
the  currents  into  silver.  Sunset  lingered  along  the 
mountain  tops  and  she  hardly  needed  to  mend  her 
pace  to  be  sure  to  reach  the  encampment  before 

233 


The  Windfall 

dark.  Nevertheless,  she  looked  sharply  about  her 
now  and  then,  with  vague  apprehension.  She  met 
few  wayfarers,  now  making  their  way  into  town; 
most  of  the  inebriates,  prominent  last  evening  at 
the  street  fair,  were  sobered  by  this  time,  and  the 
effects  of  strong  liquor  would  not  again  be  appar- 
ent until  later.  There  was  an  interregnum  in  the 
sway  of  the  Bacchus  of  the  "  moonshine."  She 
could  not  formulate  the  uneasiness  that  possessed 
her,  and  once  again  she  resolutely  turned  her  mind 
to  the  recollection  of  her  triumph,  the  manager's  de- 
light, the  poetic  justice  that  had  so  amply  overtaken 
the  cavillers  who  had  derided  and  belittled  the 
stunt.  And  still — suddenly  she  turned  and  looked 
behind  her.  It  was  an  instinct,  nothing  more;  the 
vigilance  of  an  unnamed,  causeless  fear.  The  long 
red  clay  road  stretched  out  here  straight  by  the 
riverside  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  Silent, 
still  it  was,  overhung  on  either  hand  by  the  heavily 
foliaged  boughs  of  great  forest  trees.  A  waggon 
that  had  passed  her  a  moment  since  was  yet  creak- 
ing its  lumbering  course  toward  the  town,  and  the 
odour  of  tar  on  the  hubs  was  discernible  on  the 
soft  air.  Nearer  was  the  solitary  figure  of  a  pedes- 
trian, an  old  man,  to  judge  by  the  thick  stick  with 
which  he  supported  his  steps.  At  the  distance  she 
only  noted  the  long  grey  coat  and  a  limp  broad- 
brimmed  white  hat.  Turning,  reassured,  she 
walked  on,  conscious  of  the  suave  air,  redolent  of 
the  scent  of  the  forest,  the  freshness  of  the  river 
and  the  pungency  of  the  mint  and  water-side  weeds ; 

234 


The  Windfall 

a  bird — it  was  a  thrush — was  singing  in  the  droop- 
ing boughs  of  a  great  beech;  a  star  was  whitely 
scintillating  in  the  blue  sky,  seen  in  the  space  lim- 
ited by  the  tops  of  the  rows  of  tall  trees  on  either 
side  of  the  avenue.  Suddenly  a  step  sounded  just 
behind  her  and  a  hand  fell  on  her  arm. 

The  scream  on  her  lips  was  framed  only  in  dumb 
show;  her  voice  was  paralysed  by  sudden  terror. 
It  was  hardly  annulled  when  her  wondering  gaze 
recognised  the  face — the  young  eyes  under  the 
flapping  brim  of  the  old  white  wool  hat;  the  alert, 
trig,  young  mountaineer  in  the  semblance  of  a 
slovenly,  unkempt,  hirpling.  old  vagrant.  There 
was  something  very  sinister  in  the  metamorphosis, 
and  it  may  be  doubted  if  ever  heretofore  she  had 
heard  of  a  man  in  disguise,  still  less  found  occa- 
sion to  discern  the  traits  of  the  fraud.  She  gazed 
with  a  fascinated  horror  at  him,  her  cheeks 
blanched,  her  white  lips  still  trembling,  her  eyes 
dilated  and  wildly  shifting. 

"  I  tole  ye  ez  how  I'd  see  you  uns  at  the  Fair, 
Puddin'  Pie,"  Eugene  Binley  said,  essaying  a 
smile,  but  it  was  rather  a  grimace,  for  his  mood 
was  rancorous.  He  was  ill  at  ease,  too,  agitated, 
suspicious,  ever  and  anon  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der, as  if  he  feared  an  unheralded  approach. 

11  But  ye  said  /  wouldn't  see  you  uns,"  she 
gasped,  finding  it  still  difficult  to  breathe.  "  And," 
she  spoke  slowly  and  significantly,  "  I  wisht  I 
hadn't — I  wisht  I  hadn't." 

The. solemnity  of  her  voice  evidently  increased 
235 


The  Windfall 

his  discomposure.  But  he  laughed  in  a  husky, 
raucous  undertone — a  sarcastic,  unpleasant  laugh. 

"  Ye'd  feel  freer  to  go  flyin'  round  with  a 
strange  man,  ye  never  heard  tell  on,  ef  ye  'lowed 
thar  warn't  an  eye  spyin'  on  ye." 

She  flushed  indignantly.  "  I  ain't  been  flyin' 
roun'  with  no  men.  An'  I'll  take  Tom  ter  witness 
ter  it,"  she  said  defiantly.  Five  brothers  are  a 
small  standing  army,  if  occasion  should  require. 
She  was  ashamed  of  the  threat,  and  even  more 
ashamed  of  him,  as  she  noted  its  salutary  effect. 
There  was  a  distinct  change  of  policy  in  his  tone; 
he  would  avoid  recourse  to  disparaging  insinua- 
tion. 

"Wa-al,  what  hev  ye  been  doin'?"  he  de- 
manded, and  quickly  again  glanced  around. 

"  Dancin'  an'  singin' — what  I  kem  fur,"  she  re- 
plied   sullenly. 

"  And,  oh,  Lord,  what  a  fool  ye  let  them  show- 
men make  o'  you  uns,"  he  groaned.  "  I  wuz  ter 
the  tent  an'  seen  ye — an'  my  sakes!  I  blushed  ter 
the  soles  o'  my  boots  fur  ye !  " 

Her  face  flushed.  "  Let  go  my  arm,"  she  said 
in  parenthesis. 

He  released  his  hold  and  stood  in  his  old  man 
attitude,  leaning  on  his  stick  and  looking  at  her 
with  those  dismaying  young  eyes  that  had  a 
strangely  daunting  effect  in  their  incongruity,  like 
some  frightful  thing  in  a  dream,  trivial  and  all 
devoid  of  terror  to  the  waking  sense. 

"  If  you  uns  hed  been  ter  the  tent  terday,"  she 
236 


The  Windfall 

continued,  "  ye  mought  hev  saved  some  o'  them 
blushes  fur  yer  own  misdoin's — ye  need  'em."  And 
she  tossed  her  head  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"Gosh,  gal — warn't  I  thar!  I  sot  right  in 
front  o'  them  town  gals  an'  men  from  New  Helve- 
shy  an'  hearn  'em  plottin'  an'  plannin'  ter  make  a 
puffeck  laughin'  stock  o'  you  uns,  by  clappin'  an' 
stampin'  an'  makin'  a  c'mmotion,  ez  ef  ye  war  doin' 
wonders.  My  cracky,  Clotildy,  what  ails  ye  not 
ter  sense  that  thar  couldn't  be  sech  a  power  o'  dif- 
f'unce  'twixt  terday  an'  yistiddy.  Ain't  the  turn, 
as  ye  calls  it,  the  same?  " 

Her  satisfaction  suddenly  wilted.  The  logic 
of  his  proposition  appealed  to  her  solid  sense.  It 
was  indeed  a  sudden,  causeless,  and  most  radical 
change.  Her  heart  sank;  her  nerves,  strong,  nor- 
mal, unstrained  as  they  were,  vibrated  under  this 
heavy  stress ;  the  tears  welled  up  suddenly  into  her 
beautiful  eyes,  a  moment  ago  so  happy  and  lucently 
clear.  Was  the  ovation  indeed  a  burlesque,  a 
scheme  to  try  her  foolish  capacity  for  vainglory 
to  the  utmost ;  she  remembered  with  a  keen  pain  at 
the  heart  a  certain  light  tinge  of  satire  in  the  tone 
and  manner  of  the  young  lady  they  called  Ruth. 

Then  she  remembered  Lloyd,  and  his  satisfac- 
tion. 

"  Wa-al — ef  they  all  wuz  ter  make  game  o'  hit, 
an'  me,  till  they  draps  dead,  every  one,  I'd  think 
'twar  smart  an'  fine  an'  a  good  turn,  kase  that  thar 
showman  tole  me  so,  an'  I  b'lieve  him,  every 
word." 

237 


The  Windfall 

He  looked  at  her  intently  for  a  moment,  as  if 
he  was  minded  to  wring  her  neck,  and  canvassed 
within  himself  how  to  most  effectively  lay  hold. 
Then  he  flung  back  his  head  with  his  mouth  open 
in  the  dumb  show  of  laughing  extravagantly,  the 
youthful  demonstration  seeming  a  great  lapse  from 
the  personality  of  the  old  man,  causing  her  to  step 
back  with  a  gesture  of  repellent  distrust.  She  rec- 
ognised him  perfectly,  yet  she  was  constrained  to 
look  at  him  as  at  something  uncouth,  uncanny, 
strange. 

u  Wa-al,  that's  one  o'  the  dernedest  enjyments 
the  town  air  gittin'  out'n  the  street  fair — the  way 
that  man  makes  you  uns  puffawm,  'lowin'  ye  air 
doin'  so  fine,  an'  till  terday  they  didn't  hev  the 
heart  ter  jine  in  makin'  game  o'  you  uns." 

Again  that  stricken  look  on  her  face — the  facts 
so  bore  out  the  semblance  of  the  interpretation  his 
malignity  had  devised.  And  of  herself  she  had 
no  art  to  judge.  It  seemed  indeed  to  her  a  slight 
thing  to  so  arouse  enthusiasm,  ardour — the  humble 
sporting  beneath  the  orchard  tree.  But  even 
against  her  own  conviction  she  could  not  doubt 
Lloyd. 

"  He  hev  gin  his  word  on  it,  an1  it  air  a  true 
word.     An'  I  b'lieve  him." 

Binley  was  raging  inwardly,  but  he  controlled 
the  surging  tempest  for  a  time.  He  could  hardly 
have  mastered  his  emotions  in  a  good  cause,  but 
enmity  prevailed  mightily  within  him.     And  he 

238 


The  Windfall 

loved  the  girl  in  his  way,  and  jealousy  consumed 
him  like  a  fire. 

"  When  a  gal  wants  ter  be  fooled,  it's  powerful 
easy  ter  make  a  lie  seem  like  the  truth,"  he  moral- 
ised. "Look  hyar,  Clotildy;  every  woman  that 
man  hires,  but  you  uns,  air  dressed  up  finer  than  a 
fiddle,  the  flying  lady,  an'  the  fat  lady,  an'  all. 
But  ye  dances  in  yer  shabby  old  every-day  clothes ! 
Lord,  child,  they  talked  all.  over  town  an'  the  cove 
bout'n  it." 

Again  the  cogent  reasoning,  the  recurrent  shock 
to  her  faith !  And  this  she  knew  was  the  fact,  for 
Lloyd  himself  had  come  to  the  camp  and  detailed 
the  gossip;  had  expressed  the  doubt  he  had,  lest 
his  ardour  for  the  fitness  of  the  rustic  turn  had 
rendered  her  liable  to  criticism. 

Still  she  believed  in  Lloyd  against  the  confirma- 
tion of  her  own  knowledge.  "  I  know  that  man 
ain't  a  liar,"  she  averred.  "  He's  good  an'  he's 
true.  He  wouldn't  fool  a — a — frawg!  He  hev 
gin  his  word,  an'  I  b'lieves  him.  Ef  'tain't  a  good 
stunt  it's  kase  he  dunno  what  a  good  stunt  air." 

There  was  a  momentary  silence  of  tremendous 
import  to  him.  Both  felt  that  the  forces  of  the 
crisis  were  accumulated  to  an  outburst 

"  Look-a-hyar,  Clotildy,"  he  said  in  a  low,  tense 
voice,  "  you  uns  hev  done  fell  in  love  with  that 
thar  showman."  He  brought  out  the  asseveration 
with  the  force  of  an  accusation. 

It  was  not  maidenly,  and  she  blushed  for  the 
239. 


The  Windfall 

scandalous  candour  which  she  felt  an  admission 
involved,  but  she  had  contended  and  refuted  and 
denied  till  the  unwonted  mental  exertion  had  taxed 
her  endurance — she  was  glad  to  be  rid  of  sophisms 
— to  stand  on  plain  fact. 

"  Yes,  I  be  in  love  with  him,  ef  that's  what  you 
want  to  know,"  she  said. 

"  But  ye  air  promised  ter  me !  " 

"  That  war  afore  I  seen  him,"  she  declared. 

"  An'  ye'll  keep  that  promise,  by  Gawd,"  he 
vociferated,  "  else  that  thar  showman'll  find  out 
what  sorter  stunt  the  trigger  o'  my  pistol  can  do." 

The  significance  of  the  threat  steadied  her  nerves 
and  roused  her  flagging  faculties.  This  was  a  des- 
perate man.  By  blood  already  his  hand  was 
stained.  In  the  rude  experiences  of  the  primitive 
mountain  folk  she  knew  that  often  one  such  crime 
was  followed  by  another,  a  sort  of  desperate  pre- 
cedent rendering  facile  the  consecutive  deeds,  till 
here  and  there  a  man  could  be  found  proud  of  his 
record  of  slain  foes,  the  deeds,  more  or  less  foul 
and  unprovoked.  The  law  was  slow;  the  place 
was  remote;  time  wrought  continual  changes;  and 
at  length  public  sentiment  accepted  the  crim- 
inal and  in  a  measure  condoned  the  crime — as  if, 
when  matters  went  awry,  another  murder  might 
be  expected  as  one  of  his  little  peculiarities. 

She  cared  for  naught  now  but  to  divert  Binley's 
mind,  to  regain  her  sway,  such  as  it  was,  to  obliter- 
ate her  confession  of  love  for  the  showman.  She 
broke  out  laughing  suddenly  with  so  natural  a  tone 

240 


The  Windfall 

that  it  might  have  passed  for  genuine  mirth  with 
any  but  a  jealous  lover. 

"Wa-al,  sir,  Eujeemes  Binley!  "  she  exclaimed 
— at  the  mention  of  his  name  in  her  clear,  vibrant 
young  voice  he  glanced  apprehensively  over  his 
shoulder,  reminding  her  of  the  cause  he  had  to  seek 
and  to  maintain  disguise — "  ye  air  too  easy  fooled 
yerself  ter  be  laffin'  at  me  fur  bein'  made  game  of. 
Do  you  reckon  ef  I  was  in  love  with  the  showman 
I'd  bleat  it  out  like  that !  " 

In  his  turn  logic  played  a  deceptive  part.  But 
for  his  ever-vigilant  jealousy  he  might  have  been 
convinced. 

"  That  thar  showman  ain't  never  said  a  word  o' 
love  ter  me," — she  noted  the  incredulity  in  his 
face, — "  barrin'  complimints  on  the  stunt,  an'  sech. 
I  ain't  goin'  ter  dance  fur  nothin' — got  ter  hev 
sa-aft  sawder  from  the  public,  or  somebody." 

Still  he  was  silent,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
red  clay  road,  leaning  on  his  stick  like  an  old  man, 
with  his  fiery  young  eyes  looking  up  at  her  from 
under  the  flapping  brim  of  his  old  white  hat. 

"  But  that  don't  mean  I  be  in  love  with  you  uns, 
Eujeemes,"  she  said  severely.  "  I  ain't  thinkin' 
much  o'  you  uns,  like  I  uster  do.  I  be  in  no  wise 
pleased  with  you  uns." 

He  was  doubtful;  influenced,  but  not  over- 
come. 

"  I  dunno  why,"  he  said   sullenly. 

"  Kase  ye  'lowed  ter  me  whenst  we  uns  fust  took 
ter  courtin'  ez  when  ye  killed  that  man  ye  shot 

241 


The  Windfall 

'twar  plumb  desperation — else  he'd  hev  killed  you 
uns  in  another  minit." 

The  crisis,  the  emergency  had  sharpened  her 
wits.  Heretofore  he  could  never  bear  unmoved  a 
reference  to  this  incident,  that  had  changed  all  the 
currents  of  his  life.  She  noted  that  he  did  not 
wince  now.  Her  heart  sank  as  she  drew  the  obvi- 
ous conclusion — he  was  no  longer  sensitive  to  the 
imputation  of  crime,  the  terror  of  conscience.  He 
only  lowered  at  her  and  stolidly  listened. 

"  You  used  ter  say  you  even  wisht  it  had  been 
you  uns,  'stead  o'  him;  it  was  jest  an  accident  you 
got  the  drap  on  him  fust." 

His  silence  was  inexpressive;  he  waited  the  ap- 
plication of  these  reminiscences. 

"  Ye  useter  say  ye  war  no  hardened  crim'nal; 
ye  acted  in  self-defence,  as  the  law  allows." 

He  did  not  even  nod  his  head  in  acquiescence. 
He  silently  stared  at  her,  as  she  stood  very  defi- 
nitely outlined  against  a  thicket  of  young  willows 
on  the  bank,  in  the  soft  evening  glow  which  was 
so  golden  on  the  river,  so  deep  a  daffodil  tint  in 
the  sky,  that  she  might  have  suggested  to  a  cul- 
tivated imagination  some  bit  of  emblazonment  or 
brilliant  enamel  painting,  in  her  saffron  gown  and 
red  petticoat,  and  with  her  rich  auburn  hair  piled 
high  on  her  delicate  head.  She  had  not  the  great 
clusters  of  fruits,  for  these  were  daily  renewed,  but 
now  she  plucked  at  the  artistic  draped  folds  of 
the  yellow  skirt  in  nervous  embarrassment,  keep- 
ing silence  as  a  great  hooded  waggon  rolled  by^ 

242 


The  Windfall 

coming  into  town,  laden  with  a  farmer's  Household, 
frantic  to  see  the  fair,  and  reaching  their  journey's 
end  with  the  dusk.  The  passengers  looked  curi- 
ously at  the  ill-assorted  pair  as  they  jolted  past,  but 
the  team  consisted  of  two  strong  mules  who 
mended  their  pace  as  they  approached  town  and 
fodder,  and  they  were  soon  dwindling  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

"  You  uns  useter  say  ye  was  so  sure  ye  war  clear 
o'  the  sin  o'  murder  in  the  sight  o'  God  an'  the 
eye  o'  the  law  that  ye  war  willin'  ter  leave  it  ter 
men — ef  only  ye  could  be  sure  they'd  act  fair  by 
ye!" 

Still  he  awaited  the  gist  of  her  recollections. 

"  An'  I  believed  ye — else  I'd  never  hev  allowed 
ye  ter  talk  love  ter  me.  I  know  some  folks  see  a 
differ  in  brawlin'  an'  slayin',  an'  ain't  keerin'  fur 
sech.  But  ter  my  mind  blood  is  hard  ter  wash 
out." 

"  I  dunno  what  you  uns  is  drivin'  at?  "  he  said 
at  last,  goaded  to  seek  to  stimulate  the  climax. 

"  Ye'd  know  mighty  well,  ef  yer  mind  warn't 
so  perverted.  They  war  lies  ye  tole  me.  Ye  shot 
a  man  in  a  quar'l,  for  puer  spite;  an'  hyar  ye  air 
ready  ter  shoot  another  fur  puer  spite  with  no 
quar'l.  Ye  hev  got  a  crim'nal  heart  an'  a  blood- 
stained hand,  an'  they  will  never  be  jined  with 
mine  on  no  weddin'  day,  that  we  uns  useter  look 
to  see  in  the  good  time  comin'." 

She  tossed  her  head  resolutely  more  than  once 
as  she  sounded  this  knell  to  his  hopes,  but  her  di- 

243 


The  Windfall 

lated  eyes  were  fixed  eagerly  upon  him,  as  if  she 
doubted  the  policy  of  so  stringent  a  measure.  She 
knew  the  man  even  better  than  she  had  thought. 
He  stood  unsteadily,  shifting  his  weight  from  one 
to  the  other  of  the  great  slit  boots  he  wore  on  his 
shapely  feet;  he  hesitated,  fumbling  dully  for  a 
protest,  while  his  thoughts  evidently  reviewed  the 
successive  reminders  which  had  culminated  in  this 
untoward  declaration. 

"  Ye  knowed  all  the  facts  whenst  ye  promised 
ter  marry  me,  Clotildy,"  he  reproached  her.  "  I 
never  hid  nuthin'." 

"  Ye  couldn't  hide  it;  the  talk  o'  the  mountings, 
like  the  buzzards  o'  the  air,  war  a-peckin'  an' 
a-circling  'bout  yer  crime.  A  body  jes'  needs  ter 
look  out'n  the  winder  to  know  suthin's  foul  an' 
rotten,  an'  thar's  death  an'  a  bad  deed." 

His  eyes  shrank  from  meeting  her  stern  gaze. 

"  I  dunno  what  ails  you  uns  ter  go  ter  railin' 
at  me  that-a-way,  Clotildy.  I  ain't  no  wuss'n  I 
was  whenst  ye  promised  ter  marry  me,  ef  we  could 
git  yer  dad  ter  agree  ter  it  ennywise." 

"  I  'lowed  the  killin'  war  a  plumb  misfortin',  an' 
no  willin'  fault.  But  hyar  ye  air,  willin'  ter  dip 
yer  hands  in  human  blood  the  minit  ye  air  crost — 
oh,  the  devil's  grinnin'  at  ye  from  out  his  home 
in  hell!" 

She  held  up  her  hands  at  arms'  length  and 
drooped  her  head  toward  her  shoulder,  as  if  to 
evade  the  view  of  the  frightful  image  she  had 
suggested.     He    was    insensibly,    perhaps,    more 

244 


The  Windfall 

moved  by  her  dramatic  pose  and  the  subtle  influ- 
ence of  her  agitation  than  repentance  or  fear  or 
even  credence  in  her  crude  personification  of  evil 
potency. 

"  'Twar  jes'  fur  love  o'  you  uns,  Clotildy.  I 
jes'  said  the  word,"  he  averred,  quite  conquered. 
His  voice  dropped  to  a  dulcet  cadence;  his  eyes 
plead  with  her. 

"  But  ye  meant  the  word;  ye  meant  murder!  " 
she  shrilled  out.  "  The  deed  was  done  in  yer 
heart,  already — a'ready!    Cain!    Cain!" 

"  I  swar  it  warn't,  Clotildy,"  he  urged  vehe- 
mently, coming  close  to  her.  But  she  fended  him 
off  with  both  hands  outstretched,  with  face  averted, 
as  she  had  evaded  the  grisly  sight  of  the  leering 
Satan  she  had  limned  in  a  word.  His  eagerness 
to  recover  her  favour,  his  ardour,  were  redoubled 
by  the  obstacles  she  interposed.  It  was  all  that 
was  left,  to  him, — so  had  his  world  narrowed, — 
hunted,  proscribed,  endangered,  doomed  as  he  was. 
He  felt  its  value  more  in  being  thus  dramatically 
snatched  away  from  his  grasp  than  if  absence  had 
dulled  it,  or  it  had  grown  chill  in  the  lapse  of 
time.  He  was  moved  to  protest,  to  clutch  at  it 
anew,  to  stay  the  ethereal  winged  joy  before  it 
might  rise  beyond  his  reach. 

"  I  swear  ter  you  I  was  jes'  talkin'  ter  be  a-tallc- 
in\"  he  declared.     "  I  never  meant  him  harm.    I 

1 — I "  he  could  scarcely  find  words  to  frame  the 

lie,  so  ready  were  his  lips  for  threats  and  cursing 
at  the  very  thought  of  his  rival. 

24; 


The  Windfall 

"The  truth  is  far  from  yer  heart,"  she  de- 
clared. "  Now,  now,  this  minit,  yer  shootin'  iron 
is  in  yer  boot  leg,  an'  it's  loaded  with  every 
ca'tridge  it  can  kerry." 

She  pointed  down  at  his  left  foot,  and  its  un- 
easy movement  was  like  a  confession  of  discovery. 

"  Why,  Clotildy,"  he  lowered  his  voice  mys- 
teriously, "  that's  kase  I  mought  meet  up  with — " 
he  glanced  over  his  shoulder,  as  if  expecting  to 
view  an  apparition  of  far  greater  terror  to  his 
quaking  senses  than  the  materialised  horror  of  the 
principle  of  evil — "  the  sher'ff,  ye  know " 

"  No  sech  fool  ez  ter  use  it,  ef  ye  did,"  she 
sneered.  "  Ye  know  ye'd  only  make  matters 
worse." 

"  Then  I  mought  meet  some  o'  that  man's  kin," 
he  suggested. 

"  Air  you  uns  layin'  fur  'em?  "  she  asked,  "  an' 
they  don't  even  live  in  the  county." 

"  Naw — naw,"  he  muttered,  at  a  loss  for  a 
subterfuge. 

"  What  did  ye  kem  hyar  fur,  in  them  scare- 
crow clothes?  "  she  gazed  contemptuously  at  him, 
her  disgust  for  their  unkempt  condition,  their  rags, 
their  dirt,  which  was  suggested  rather  than  seen, 
delineated  in  high  disdain  in  every  feature  of  her 
face. 

He  was  pitiably  conscious  of  his  unpicturesque 
plight,  and  yet  he  had  been  proud  of  the  complete- 
ness and  efficiency  of  his  disguise. 

"You  uns  know  I  couldn't  come  lookin'  like 
246 


The  Windfall 

myself,  Clotildy,  though  I'd  mighty  nigh  ruther 
be  drowned  'n   let  you  see  me   'pear  so — so — 


common." 


His  humility  might  have  been  expected  to 
disarm  her. 

"  You  kem  hyar  never  expectin'  me  ter  view 
you  uns,"  she  said  sternly.  "  I  'member  yer 
words  an'  how  secret  ye  looked  whenst  ye  said 
'em.  Ye  kem  hyar  ter  spy  on  me  an'  him — an' 
ef  ye  'lowed  I  liked  him  most,  ye'd  draw  that 
shootin'  iron  out  yer  boot  that  ye  loaded  a-purpose. 
That's  what  ye  kem  hyar  fur,  lookin'  like  the  scum 
o'  the  yearth — ez  ye  air." 

He  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  shame  for 
his  poor  habiliments  so  mastered  him.  He  felt 
all  in  fault  that  he  had  revealed  himself.  He  had 
not  that  control  of  his  faculties,  the  possession  of 
the  situation,  the  normal  ascendency  of  the  man's 
mind  over  the  woman's  that  he  would  have  grasped 
under  any  other  circumstances.  He  had  only  ac- 
quainted her  with  the  dangerous  secret  of  his 
presence  here;  with  his  jealousy,  and  his  fell  de- 
termination of  revenge  for  the  heart  reft  from 
him;  with  the  fact  that  he  went  armed  in  search 
of  the  sweet  opportunities  of  vengeance;  with  the 
identity  of  the  malefactor  in  the  event  of  a  deed 
of  violence,  of  some  mystery  of  disaster.  And  for 
what?  To  receive  her  faint-hearted  denials  of 
her  fickle  faith ;  to  be  rated  and  upbraided  as  never 
before  had  he  heard  her — heard  any  of  the  sub- 
missive mountain  women — lift  her  voice  in  ar- 

247 


The  Windfall 

raignment  of  a  man's  deeds;  to  have  her  deliber- 
ately take  back  her  promise,  or  as  an  alternative 
dictate  terms;  he  felt  that  some  hard  compact  was 
in  contemplation.  Yet  this  was  his  only  resource 
to  retrieve  his  mistake  in  revealing  his  identity, 
and  if  her  terms  did  not  suit  him  he  too  could 
keep  or  break  a  bargain.  Nevertheless  he  did  not 
dream  of  the  condition  when  he  said: 

"  Clotildy,  believe  me  fur  wunst.  I  jes'  kem 
ter  see  you  uns,  honey-sweet.  I  pined  so  fur  the 
sight  o'  ye — the  sound  o'  yer  voice.  I  resked  all — 
the  sheriff,  the  jail,  the  man's  kin — all,  ter  kem 
ter  view  ye,  as  all  mought — but  me — hid  out  in 
the  wilderness.  Believe  me  fur  wunst,  sweet- 
heart.    I  only  said  it  bekase  I  love  ye  so." 

She  hesitated,  he  thought,  in  a  relenting  mood. 
She  came  close  to  him  and  laid  her  hand  on  his 
ragged  coat  sleeve.  She  gazed  up  into  his  eyes 
under  the  drooping  hat  brim. 

"  I  will — I  will  believe  you  uns,"  she  said,  "  ef 
ye  will  do  one  thing." 

He  looked  a  keen,  eager  inquiry. 

"  Take  that  loaded  shootin'  iron  outn'  yer  boot 
leg,  an'  leave  it  hyar  with  me,"  she  hissed  between 
her  set  teeth. 

It  was  little  the  demonstration  of  a  languishing, 
love-sick  girl,  seeking  to  protect  her  lover's  safety 
against  his  own  impulsive  imprudence.  But  her 
histrionic  intuitions,  great  as  they  were,  had  yet 
their  hampering  limitations.  She  was  a  presenta- 
tion, rather,  of  some  warlike  feminine  spirit,  a 

248 


The  Windfall 

Bellona,  who,  having  conquered  in  a  hard  fight, 
inexorably  dictates  the  sacrifices  of  the  capitula- 
tion. 

For  a  moment,  so  taken  by  surprise  he  was, 
he  could  find  no  words  for  answer.  Then  he 
broke  out  with  oaths  so  crowding  on  his  tongue 
that  his  utterance  was  for  a  time  but  an  inarticu- 
late mouthing  of  profanity. 

Still  close  beside  him  she  eyed  him  threateningly. 
"  I  hed  hoped  never  ter  lay  my  tongue  ter  sech  a 
word,"  she  declared,  her  eyelids  narrowing.  "  But 
ef  ye  won't  abide  by  my  proof  I'll  believe  the  wust 
o'  ye.  I'll  b'lieve  ye  threatened  him  in  dead  ear- 
nest. An'  I'll  gin  the  word  who  ye  air  to  the 
sher'ff  afore  that  star  draps  a-hint  the  rim  o'  the 
mountings."  She  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  lucent 
splendours  of  the  evening  star,  just  slipping  from 
a  roseate  haze  to  the  tips  of  the  firs  darkly  cut 
and  finial-like  against  the  clear  horizon.  Then 
once  more  she  gazed  sternly  at  him. 

He  cast  one  furtive  glance  up  and  down  the 
vacant  road.  Then  he  stooped  and  drew  a  long 
glittering  weapon  from  the  leg  of  his  shapeless 
boot,  pulled  high  over  his  baggy  trousers.  But  he 
did  not  place  it  in  the  hand  she  held  out  eagerly. 
His  eyes  blazed  with  a  light  far  more  dangerous 
than  the  stern,  steady,  menacing  gleam  of  hers,  for 
it  was  the  intemperate  rage  of  a  jealous  lover,  of 
a  desperate  gamester,  losing  all  on  the  turn  of  the 
dice,  of  a  duped  and  overreached  schemer.  He 
had  hardly  space  for  a  step  before  him,  to  be  taken 

249 


The  Windfall 

of  his  own  free  will;  he  was  driven,  hounded, 
pursued,  brought  to  bay. 

"  I'd  be  justified  ter  shoot  ye  dead,  hyar  in  the 
road,  Clotildy,  an'  before  Gawd,  I'll  do  it,"  she 
heard  him  gasp. 

The  dusk  was  deepening  about  them.  She 
could  scarcely  discern  the  expression  of  his  face, 
but  she  could  see  that  it  shone  with  thick  drops  of 
moisture  that  had  sprung  from  every  pore;  he 
was  in  a  cold  sweat  of  excitement;  his  hand  trem- 
bled as  he  held  the  weapon.  There  was  a  moment  of 
intense  suspense;  the  low  rune  of  the  river  sounded 
its  rhythmic  measures  through  the  solitude;  the 
mighty  forests  did  not  stir,  save  once  there  came 
that  strange,  long-drawn  breath,  the  sylvan  sigh 
of  the  dreaming  woods.  A  bat  on  noiseless  wing 
went  by  with  its  sudden,  shrill,  mouse-like  cry,  as  it 
almost  brushed  against  the  two  still,  silent  figures; 
the  star  dropped  down  out  of  sight.  Then  she 
heard  the  metallic  click  once  and  again  as  the  ham- 
mer of  the  pistol  was  drawn  to  full  cock. 

"  Say  yer  pray'rs,  gal,"  he  hissed.  "  Before 
Gawd,  ye  hev  goaded  me  ter  this!  Say  yer 
pray'rs!  " 

She  saw  the  weapon  flash  in  his  hand;  there 
hardly  seemed  so  much  reserve  of  light  in  all  the 
landscape,  with  the  blurred  sheen  of  the  river,  and 
the  cloister  pallor  of  the  pure,  aloof  sky,  and  the 
deep  glooms  of  the  encompassing  woods.  "  Say 
yer  pray'rs,"  he  growled   again. 

She  could  hardly  imagine  such  terror  as  pos- 
250 


The  Windfall 

sessed  her;  her  heart  had  dissolved;  her  hands, 
her  feet  were  numb;  her  brain  seemed  as  if  para- 
lysed; the  roof  of  her  mouth  was  dry  and  her  stiff 
tongue  clove  to  it;  to  her  it  was  as  if  other  lips 
framed  the  words,  but  she  noted  the  thick  falter 
of  the  voice  when  she  said  in  tones  near  to  tears : 

"  God  will  purtect  me,  'thout  waitin'  ter  be 
asked.  The  spar's  don't  pray,  an'  he  heeds  thar 
fall.  But  'tain't  the  time  fur  prar'r  now,  nor 
murder,  nuther.  Ye  dassent  shoot  me,  Eujeemes 
Binley — it's  too  nigh  the  camp  on  one  side,  an 
the  town  on  t'other.  The  crack  of  your  pistol 
would  help  my  blood  to  cry  from  the  yearth  till  the 
neighbours,  ez  would  roam  the  woods  this  night, 
would  git  ye  fast  an'  sure  by  the  scruff  of  yer  neck. 
Hurt  me,  ef  you  dare!  Ever'body  would  know 
who  done  the  deed — an'  why !  " 

The  words  seemed  inspired,  so  definitely  they 
broke  the  power  of  the  threat.  She  was  not  help- 
less ;  she  was  not  alone.  That  infinitely  potent  and 
turbulent  force,  the  rage  of  a  roused  community, 
that  she  had  prefigured  as  her  avenger,  terrified 
him  as  no  other  possibility  might.  He  had  skulked 
from  the  deliberate  law,  and  from  the  busy  offi- 
cers, charged  with  its  many  behests,  but  he  could 
never  evade  the  neighbours,  when  every  man  was 
ready  to  usurp  the  functions  of  justice  and  the  ap- 
pointed minister  of  vengeance  in  the  feuds  of  the 
community.  He  began  to  realise  his  precipitancy; 
the  noose  was  drawing  about  his  own  neck.  He 
regretted  infinitely  his  outbreak;  his  ill-considered, 

25,1 


The  Windfall 

intemperate  threats  against  Lloyd;  could  he  not 
have  worked  his  will  without  even  revealing  his 
presence  here?  The  man  could  have  been  shot  in 
a  crowd  as  if  by  accident,  presumably  by  some  silly, 
drunken  lout  among  the  spectators,  or  even  by  the 
accidental  discharge  of  a  weapon,  he  argued  within 
himself.  His  alibi  could  have  been  easy  to  prove 
by  the  Pinnotts,  themselves,  if  indeed  his  agency 
could  have  been  suspected,  for  they  had  left  him 
in  the  cave  in  the  mountain,  afraid,  because  of  his 
previous  troubles,  to  come  to  the  Fair.  Some  less 
obvious  fate  might  have  been  devised  for  the  inter- 
loper— something  that  would  better  perplex  and 
disconcert  investigation.  He  had  relied  too  im- 
plicity  on  his  hold  on  this  girl's  heart;  he  had  loved 
her  with  too  confiding  a  devotion.  But  since 
he  had  lost  her — yet  perchance  with  this  inter- 
meddler  out  of  the  way  she  might  turn  anew  to 
him,  as  of  yore — he  would  not  sacrifice  himself 
gratuitously. 

He  suddenly  broke  into  a  hollow,  raucous  peal 
of  laughter,  so  at  variance  with  his  look,  his  at- 
titude, his  threats,  that  the  girl  nervously  set  both 
hands  against  her  ears  to  shut  out  the  sinister 
dissonance. 

"  Lawk-a-day,  Clotildy,"  he  mocked  at  her, 
"  yer  head  is  in  an'  about  turned  with  yer  play- 
actin',  an'  song  an'  dance,  an'  stunts,  an'  sech.  I'm 
jes'  a-funnin',  seein'  ez  how  I  kin  play-act,  an'  do 
stunts,  an'  sech,  too.  Toler'ble  well,  I  reckon, 
seein'  ez  ye  thunk  the  demonstration  war  genuyine. 

252 


The  Windfall 

I  wouldn't  git  myself  tangled  up  in  a  snarl  with 
shootin'  that  thar  showman  fur  ten  dozen  sech 
flimsy  leetle  cattle  ez  you  uns.  An'  I  wouldn't 
harm  a  hair  o'  yer  head  fur  a  whole  county  o' 
sech  ez  him.  Ye  hev  got  a  right  ter  a  ch'ice 
'mongst  men.  Make  it  ter  suit  yerse'f.  Gawd 
knows  I  don't  want  no  gal  ez  ain't  powerful  glad 
ter  git  me.  I  kem  ter  the  Fair  kase  I  war  so  dad- 
burned  lonesome  in  the  mountings,  an'  I  war  sure 
ez  nobody  would  know  me  in  this  hyar  rig — all 
the  old  clothes  I  could  find  in  yer  dad's  roof-room. 
But  you  uns  'pear  ter  be  a  toler'ble  long-headed 
leetle  trick,  an'  I  do  b'lieve  I  be  safer  'thout  the 
pistol,  like  ye  say,  than  with  it.  Hyar,  take  it — 
take  it — ef  ye  want  it!  Wait — it's  full  cocked." 
His  face  changed  visibly,  even  in  the  dusk,  at  this 
evidence  of  the  deadliness  of  his  pretended  jocosity. 
"  Thar  now,  it's  half  cocked.  But  handle  it  keer- 
ful,  an'  keep  it  out  o'  sight.  Ef  enny  war  ter 
ask  ye  whar  ye  got  it  'pears  like  'twould  be  a  toler'- 
ble awkward  lie  ye  would  hev  ter  tell!  " 

The  revulsion  of  feeling,  her  astonishment  at 
this  sudden  change,  the  amazing  transition  from 
mortal  terror  to  the  assurance  of  safety,  so  over- 
whelmed her  faculties  that  for  a  moment  in  the 
reaction  she  was  not  far  from  fainting.  She 
seemed  more  overwrought  than  in  the  instant  of 
the  immediate  expectation  of  death.  She  leaned 
back  against  the  bole  of  the  great  beech  tree  above 
her  head;  she  was  glad  to  brace  her  feet  against 
the  projecting  roots;  her  face  was  white  in  the 

253 


The  Windfall 

dusk;  she  could  even  feel  the  cold  as  the  chill 
quivers  ran  over  it.  Yet  never  did  she  lose  the 
grasp  upon  the  pistol.  She  felt  as  if  she  had  the 
whole  earth  in  her  hands,  so  dominant  was  her 
sense  of  power.  Not  for  a  moment  did  she  credit 
her  scheming  lover's  protest  of  innocent  intention — 
he  had  meant  to  slyly,  treacherously  kill  the  man, 
and  now  it  was  impossible.  He  could  not  with  his 
bare  hands  slay  the  stalwart  athlete;  he  could  not 
buy  a  weapon,  he  had  neither  the  money,  nor  the 
courage  to  dare  the  suspicion  this  might  provoke; 
he  could  not  borrow  it,  for  who  would  trust  aught 
of  value  to  so  irresponsible  an  old  vagrant  as  he 
seemed.  Lloyd  was  safe,  and  she  felt  a  sudden 
revivifying  joy  in  the  fact  that  it  was  she  who  had 
saved  him. 

There  is  no  more  invincible  persuasion  in  the 
mind  of  a  man  than  the  overestimate  of  his  hold 
on  a  woman's  affection.  With  Lloyd  out  of  the 
way,  Binley  argued,  she  would  soon  forget  the 
showman,  and  her  old  lover  would  easily  find  his 
place  anew. 

"  'Member,  Dumplin',"  he  said  with  a  tender 
intonation,  odious  now  to  her  sensitive  nerves,  "  ye 
promised  ye'd  b'lieve  me  ef  I'd  leave  the  shootin' 
iron.  I  kem  hyar  fur  nuthin  on  yearth,  precious 
dear,  but  ter  see  yer  sweet  eyes,  an'  kiss  the  hem  o' 
yer  frock." 

He  reached  out  his  hand  as  if  to  lay  hold  on  a 
plait  of  the  draped  skirt,  but  she  shrank  back  in 
disgust  and  repulsion. 

254 


The  Windfall 

"  Don't — don't,"  she  said  sharply.  Then,  to 
mask  her  aversion,  "  Somebody's  kemin'  now. 
Thar  will  be  travellers  soon,  to  an'  fro  to  the  town, 
an'  it'll  be  remarked  how  long  I  stood  hyar  talkin' 
ter  a  ole  rag'muffin.  Somebody  might  suspect 
'twould  be  more  natchural  ef  he  war  a  peart  lookin' 
young  man.  'Twould  be  better  ef  we  war  ter 
part." 

She  began  to  walk  slowly  along — she  was  lan- 
guid, feeble — holding  the  pistol  hidden  in  a  fold 
of  her  dress. 

"  Time's  slow,  till  I  see  you  agin,  Honey- 
sweet,"  he  called  after  her,  as  he  stood  and 
watched  her  progress  in  the  chasm-like  rift  the 
red  clay  road  made  in  the  midst  of  the  dense 
forest. 

"  Time's  forever,  till  I  see  you  agin,"  she  de- 
clared. Her  gait  suddenly  gathered  speed,  and 
she  fled  like  a  deer,  like  the  wind  through  the 
shadows,  and  was  lost  in  their  midst. 

He  stood,  his  face  still  looking  toward  the  spot 
where  she  had  disappeared,  even  after  the  itera- 
tion of  the  impact  of  her  swift  feet  upon  the  ground 
had  ceased  to  sound.  He  was  silent  as  he  listened, 
but  at  length  he  turned  with  a  contemptuous  laugh 
that  yet  partook  of  the  characteristics  of  a  malig- 
nant snarl.  He  shook  his  head  to  and  fro  with  the 
prophetic  triumph  of  an  unspoken  thought.  Then 
he  began  to  retrace  his  way  toward  the  town,  and 
though  there  were  none  to  observe  him,  he  leaned 
heavily  on  his  thick  stick,  after  the  manner  of  an 

*5S, 


The  Windfall 

old  man,  walking  with  one  step  longer  than  the 
other,  apparently  feebler  in  one  limb.  He  kept 
his  head  bowed  as  he  approached  Colbury,  only 
now  and  then  lifting  it  to  gaze  out  from  beneath 
the  flapping  brim  of  the  old  white  hat,  as  the  town 
gradually  came  into  view,  nestled — as  it  were — in 
the  heart  of  the  great  hills.  They  loomed  darkly, 
indistinguishably,  above  it  at  this  hour,  and  the 
grey  and  purple  mists  were  vaguely  visible,  outlin- 
ing ravines.  The  courthouse  tower  arose  with  an 
impressive  architectural  effect  in  the  dim  night. 
Stars  in  the  vague  sky  struck  indefinite  glimmers 
from  the  long  shining  steeples  of  the  churches. 
Below  trees  interposed,  but  he  could  discern  a  sort 
of  halo  of  illumination  among  the  roofs  that  was 
the  exponent  of  the  kindling  lights  heralding  the 
evening  attractions  of  the  Street  Fair. 


256 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  lights  of  the  Street  Carnival  were  all 
broadly  aflare  in  the  purple  dusk  when 
the  Laniston  party  once  more  issued 
forth  into  the  square.  The  stars,  now  in  scin- 
tillating myriads,  shone  white  from  a  remote  and 
richly  dark  sky ;  across  it  in  tattered  fragments  thin 
tawny  clouds  were  flying  before  the  wind,  strag- 
glers from  the  routed  armies  of  the  storm.  The 
young  moon,  golden  as  it  tended  toward  the  west, 
but  with  a  vague,  veiling,  pearly  tissue,  illumined 
the  upper  atmosphere  and  showed  even  the  bend- 
ing of  the  tree-tops  of  the  nearest  forests  as  they 
crouched  before  the  blast.  There  was  a  sugges- 
tion of  solemnity,  of  silence,  of  the  great  latent 
forces  of  nature,  of  the  unresponsive,  insoluble 
problems  of  creation  when  one  glanced  off  to  that 
benighted  landscape  under  the  voiceless  moon. 
But  the  sordid  purlieus  of  the  little  square  rang 
with  the  spielers'  solicitations,  the  hucksters'  cries, 
the  wild  clatter  of  the  merry-go-round,  whizzing 
gaily  to  the  music  of  the  band, — every  saddle  was 
bestridden;  every  chariot  was  occupied  with  the 
philandering  rural  youth,  who  saw  no  incon- 
gruity in  being  obliged  to  shout  soft  nothings  to 
each  other  amidst  the  grinding  of  the  machinery, 
the  blare  of  the  band  and  the  clamour  of  voices 

257 


The  Windfall 

as  loud  as  their  own.  The  Flying  Lady  was 
a-wing  in  her  tent,  its  outer  aspect  suggesting  a 
great  illuminated  mushroom;  and  from  a  similar 
semblance  close  at  hand  issued  the  heart-rending 
howls  of  Wick-Zoo,  that  made  many  a  rustic  shiver 
now  with  fascinated  fear,  and  with  reminiscent 
horror  at  every  .asual  recollection  far  away  in 
his  mountain  home  for  six  months  to  come.  At 
every  turn  was  this  glow  of  canvas,  the  lamps 
within  shining  through  the  translucent  fabric,  and 
threading  their  way  amongst  these  tents  Mr.  Jar- 
dine  and  his  two  fair  young  charges  came  presently 
to  the  base  of  the  frame  of  the  great  wheel,  its 
periphery  reaching  high  up  above  all  the  glare  and 
sound,  the  glow  of  its  infrequent  electric  bulbs 
seeming  to  enstar  the  dim  purple  dusk. 

The  wind  had  freshened  considerably,  but  it 
was  no  deterrent  to  those  who  would  fain  try  the 
revolution,  for  only  three  of  the  settees  were 
now  vacant,  and  while  the  earlier  comers  were 
poised,  gently  swinging  high  in  mid-air,  the  oblig- 
ing custodian  of  the  monster  was  affably  ready  to 
receive  the  price  of  admission  and  accommodate 
as  many  passengers  as  could  find  places.  The  con- 
trivance had  long  been  a  trite  feature  at  all  shows 
and  street  fairs  and  pleasure  grounds  catering  to 
the  amusement  of  the  humbler  populace,  but  to 
Mr.  Jardine,  who  did  not  frequent  entertainments 
of  this  description,  it  was  as  astounding  a  novelty 
as  to  any  backwoods  denizen  of  Persimmon  Cove. 
Its  method  of  operation  was  of  course  obvious  at 

258 


The  Windfall 

the  first  glance,  but  he  asked  several  questions  of 
its  custodian  as  he  stood  with  the  young  ladies  at 
the  wicket  below  and  passed  in  the  price  for  its 
giddy  pleasure,  and  if  he  had  not  been  thus  occu- 
pied he  might  have  been  pleased  to  observe  that 
while  they  were  submitted  to  the  critical  gaze  of 
the  jostling  crowd,  arrayed  with  so  special  a 
daintiness,  their  jaunty  bravado  wilted  a  trifle  and 
their  ready  laughter  had  frozen  into  an  icy  dignity 
of  demeanour.  It  might  seem  difficult  for  a  lady 
in  an  Irish  lace  blouse  and  a  crisp  white  linen  skirt, 
determined  on  an  ascent  in  a  Ferris  Wheel  in  a 
rough  country  crowd,  to  maintain  the  aloof,  pale 
hauteur  of  a  princess,  but  Lucia's  aspect  in  the 
light  of  the  sparse  electric  bulbs  and  the  flickering 
torches  was  calculated  to  thus  impress  all  privileged 
to  gaze  upon  her.  There  was  a  respectful  silence 
pervading  the  crowd  for  a  few  moments  after  they 
had  reached  the  spot,  but  the  interests  of  self  are 
predominant,  and  after  a  modicum  of  patience  Mr. 
Jardine  was  unceremoniously  urged. 

"  Does  the  wind  affect  the  safety  of  the  ma- 
chine? "  he  asked  solicitously,  gazing  aloft  as  well 
as  he  could  through  the  slender  steel  spokes  to 
where  the  topmost  laden  settees  were  swinging 
back  and  forth,  seemingly  with  added  impetus  in 
the  stiff  breeze. 

"  Not  at  all,  sir,"  said  the  functionary,  as  in  a 
parenthesis,  while  he  counted  the  change,  "  twenty- 
five,  thirty,  thirty-five." 

"  There  is  no  danger?  " 

259 


The  Windfall 

"  Ef  ye  air  afeard,  old  man,  jes'  stand  back  an' 
lemme  git  a  chanct,"  a  country  youth  admonished 
Mr.  Jardine. 

"  Lord  sakes,  stranger,  take  yer  place,  an  give 
we  uns  the  next  turn,"  an  elderly  mountaineer 
suggested. 

"  Them  folks  up  thar  air  gittin'  twict  the  wuth 
o'  thar  money  in  all  this  wasted  time,"  a  grudging 
soul  opined.  And  the  rest  of  the  crowd  pressed 
sensibly  forward. 

Jardine  had  never  been  so  unceremoniously  ad- 
dressed since  he  was  born.  But  the  two  young 
ladies,  who  laughed  on  such  slight  provocation, 
were  enabled  to  preserve  an  impassive  gravity  now, 
which  fact  he  observed  with  a  feeling  of  grateful 
relief,  for  he  was  conscious  of  the  ridiculous  plight 
of  his  elegant  personality.  He  went  on  with  as 
deliberate  a  dignity  as  if  he  were  aware  of  no 
interruption,  albeit  acutely  conscious  of  a  score  of 
eyes  eagerly  fixed  on  his  face. 

"  No  danger  of  the  wind  obstructing  the  revo- 
lution, and  preventing  the  descent  of  passengers?  " 
he  concluded  his  query. 

"Not  at  all,  sir— forty,  forty-five,  fifty ;  fifty- 
five — that's  O.  K. — I  think  you'll  find  your  change 
correct,  sir.     Take  this  seat." 

Jardine  moved  forward  with  a  young  lady  on 
each  arm — suddenly,  as  he  was  about  to  induct 
Lucia  into  the  waiting  settee,  he  stopped  immova- 
ble— "  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  addressing  his  charges, 
"where  is  Frank?  " 

260 


The  Windfall 

The  patience  of  the  wheel-man  was  overstrained. 
He  had  collected  the  price  of  admission,  and  if 
Jardine  did  not  care  to  make  the  ascent  no  money 
would  be  refunded.  He  was  now  keen  to  sell  the 
passage  in  the  last  remaining  settee. 

"  Take  your  places,  sir,  and  let  these  gentlemen 
come  forward,"  he  said  peremptorily. 

But  Jardine  still  looked  over  his  shoulder  and 
said  again  to  the  young  ladies,  "  Where  is  Frank?  " 

"  '  Where,  oh,  where  is  good  old  Francis  ?'" 
sang  a  wag  in  the  group.  "  *  Safe  in  the  Promised 
Land.'  " 

There  was  a  guffaw  of  appreciation  from  the 
bystanders  and  it  ameliorated  for  the  moment  the 
temper  of  the  crowd,  which  had  shown  a  nettle- 
some  rancour.  It  was  still  pressing  forward,  and 
a  dirty,  horny  hand  offered  over  Jardine's  shoulder 
the  money  for  the  same  seats.  "  There  air  fower 
o'  we  uns — ef  he  won't  ride  let  we  uns  go  up?  " 

"  Why,"  exclaimed  Jardine  wonderingly,  still 
looking  over  his  shoulder  expectantly,  "  Frank 
promised  to  get  some  cigarettes  at  the  hotel  and 
then  overtake  us." 

"  Take  your  places,  sir,"  the  ticket-seller  insisted. 
"  I  can't  keep  the  wheel  standing  still  all  night 
while  you  collect  your  party." 

At  that  moment  a  call  came  from  above,  and  all 
gazing  up  through  the  barely  seen  spokes  and  fellies 
of  the  great  wheel  to  where  the  loftiest  chariots 
seemed  to  swing  vaguely  among  the  stars  and  the 
swift  scud  of  brown  and  white  clouds,  perceived 

261 


The  Windfall 

how  the  oscillation  was  increased  by  the  atmos- 
pheric disturbance.  The  pause,  too,  had  grown 
monotonous,  the  air  was  becoming  cold,  and  one 
of  the  passengers  summoned  the  official  below  to 
continue  the  revolution  and  bring  the  descent  into 
progress. 

"  Take  your  places,  sir,  or  I  will  give  them  to 
the  next  comer,"  declared  the  custodian  of  the 
wheel. 

There  was  a  scuffle  in  the  crowd  for  the  first 
opportunity.  Jardine,  but  for  very  shame,  would 
have  yielded  the  places  and  relinquished  the  money, 
yet  he  could  not  allow  his  escort  of  the  ladies  to 
this  coveted  pleasure  terminate  so  disastrously. 
How  inefficient,  he  reflected,  how  superannuated 
he  must  seem  to  them,  how  preposterously  he  had 
contrived  to  mismanage  this  humble  little  outing 
on  which  they  had  set  their  whimsical  hearts. 
How  cordially  he  would  have  welcomed  an  oppor- 
tunity to  slaughter  with  his  own  hands  the  marplot 
Frank!  How  willingly  he  would  have  deprived 
him  of  the  pleasure  of  making  the  ascent  in  this 
choice  company  by  leaving  the  recreant  and  pro- 
ceeding at  once. 

"  But  I  can't,"  he  said  in  perplexity.  "  We 
have  taken  two  of  the  settees — four  seats.  One 
of  the  settees  would  be  inadequately  weighted  with 
only  one  person — its  balance  would  not  be  kept — 
it  might  not  be  safe.  I  must  wait  for  the  gentle- 
man whom  I  expect  every  moment." 

In  vain  the  ticket-seller  protested  that  the  equi- 
262 


\The  Windfall 

librium  of  the  settees  did  not  depend  upon  the 
weight  or  number  of  the  occupants.  But  the  wind 
had  now  grown  so  chill  that  he  looked  up  with 
anxiety  and  deprecation  at  the  stationary  wights 
high  in  the  wheel,  who  were  threatening  to  make 
complaints  to  the  municipal  authorities  for  their 
detention  thus  out  of  reason  and  against  their  will, 
and  demanding  an  immediate  descent  and  release. 
Then  he  said,  for  he  had  a  gift  for  expedients  and 
was  an  excellent  man  of  business: 

"  We  can't  wait  no  longer,  sir.  If  you  think 
the  wheel  ain't  safe  with  only  one  passenger  on 
the  settee  jes'  let  this  gent  take  a  seat  alongside  o' 
one  of  the  ladies,  and  that  will  sure  make  the 
balance  all  right,"  and  he  summoned  forward  with 
a  nod  the  wag  who  had  chanted  the  inquiry  con- 
cerning "  the  good  old  Francis." 

He  was  a  slightly  built,  common  young  fellow, 
arrayed  in  a  cheap  plaid  suit,  a  steel  watch  chain, 
a  straw  hat,  and  he  was  chewing  a  straw  as  if  it 
were  his  daily  provender.  He  had  a  flat  face, 
sandy  hair,  a  good-natured  small  grey  eye  and  no 
eyelashes  to  speak  of.  He  stepped  forward  with 
nonchalant  alacrity.  He  had  evidently  been  se- 
lected as  the  most  responsible  looking  person  avail- 
able, and  the  only  reason  that  Jardine  did  not  faint 
upon  the  spot  was  that  his  attention  was  stimulated 
by  the  sudden  offer  of  a  substitute  even  more 
distasteful  to  his  prejudices. 

"  Do  you  think  that  with  this  wind  more  avoir- 
dupois is  necessary?  "  Lloyd's  voice  broke  upon  the 

263 


The  Windfall 

air.  He  had  come  up  during  the  discussion  and 
was  a  witness  of  the  speechless  horror  of  Jardine, 
who  might  have  involved  himself  in  some  unpleas- 
ant dilemma  with  the  crowd  had  he  declined,  and 
who  could  not  of  course  accept  the  expedient. 
"  Well — it  is  up  to  the  show  folks  to  make  these 
things  satisfactory  to  the  public  as  well  as  safe, 
and  if  the  gentleman  will  consider  me  a  sufficient 
makeweight  I'll  undertake  to  balance  this  settee. " 

He  forthwith  cut  the  Gordian  knot  and  broke 
the  deadlock  by  handing  Lucia  to  the  waiting 
settee  with  a  grace  as  definite  and  a  manner  as 
gravely  deferential  as  if  the  role  of  squire  of  dames 
were  in  continual  rehearsal  in  his  repertoire.  He 
seated  himself  beside  her  before  Jardine  could  pro- 
test, and  as  they  swung  off  together  into  the  air 
the  next  settee  came  within  reach  and  there  was 
no  course  left  to  Jardine  but  to  assist  Ruth  to  her 
place,  and  follow  in  the  regular  rotation  of  the 
wheel. 

Jardine  had  never  esteemed  himself  an  elderly 
lover;  in  the  conventional  walks  of  life  in  the  city 
of  their  respective  homes  there  had  seemed  no  dis- 
parity whatever  in  their  ages.  Now  the  variance 
in  taste,  in  temperament,  in  the  outlook  at  life, 
in  the  pursuit  of  excitement,  in  sheer  endurance, 
was  definitely  asserted.  The  sensation,  as  the 
settees  rose  elastically  with  the  revolution  of 
the  wheel,  was  nauseating  to  his  well-conducted 
stomach.  Then,  as  they  paused  and  swung,  pendu- 
lum-like,  to  and  fro,  while  the  lower  seat  was 

264 


The  Windfall 

filled  and  other  passengers  were  liberated,  the  pos- 
ture, the  situation  was  revolting  to  his  priggish 
sense  of  dignity.  He  fairly  dreaded  the  upper 
dizzy  reaches  of  the  circumference,  and  naught  but 
the  coercion  of  the  circumstances  could  have  con- 
strained him  to  the  ordeal.  He  maintained  silence, 
however,  remembering  the  rural  fling  "  old  man  " 
and  desiring  to  betray  no  sentiment  of  discomfort 
to  the  delighted  Ruth,  who  sat  beside  him  gurgling 
with  gleeful  laughter,  and  uttering  little  discon- 
nected exclamations  of  half-feigned  fear  and  a  real 
sense  of  jeopardy. 

When,  rather  than  incur  Lucia's  anger,  Jardine 
had  lent  himself  to  the  absurd  pleasuring,  on  which 
the  two  girls  seemed  bent,  he  had  no  conception  of 
such  a  turn  of  circumstances  as  should  relegate  her 
to  the  care  of  another,  a  stranger,  and  of  all  people 
in  the  world,  the  manager  of  an  itinerant  show. 
He  scarcely  knew  how  he  should  face  Mrs.  Lanis- 
ton  after  this  signal  demonstration  of  his  incapac- 
ity to  discharge  so  simple  a  duty  as  devolved  upon 
him  in  the  escort  of  the  two  young  ladies — she 
could  never  be  made  to  comprehend  the  pressure 
of  the  situation.  He  sought  to  comfort  himself 
by  the  realisation  that  after  all  the  wheel  was  but 
a  public  conveyance,  and  for  a  lady  to  sit  beside 
a  strange  man  in  this  vehicle  was  not  a  matter  of 
more  pronounced  familiarity  than  in  a  street  car 
or  a  railway  train,  an  episode  of  daily  occurrence. 
In  this  point  of  view  the  rural  wag  would 
have  been  more   acceptable  to   his  predilections 

265 


The  Windfall 

than  this  extraordinarily  handsome  man,  with 
the  manners  of  a  gentleman  and  the  calling  of  a 
strolling  faker.  Lucia  would  never  seem  aware 
of  the  existence  of  the  one,  whereas  the  other  had 
after  a  fashion  been  brought  to  her  notice;  they 
had  asked  of  him  the  favour  of  photographing 
the  dancing-girl,  though  as  an  excuse  indeed  for 
having  been  detected  in  surreptitiously  photograph- 
ing the  manager.  The  two  had  on  that  occasion 
exchanged  sundry  formal  observations,  and  it 
would  be  but  natural  that  some  conversation  would 
ensue  upon  being  brought  thus  accidentally  into 
this  renewal  of  association. 

The  wind  blowing  so  freshly  into  their  faces 
almost  took  away  their  breath,  and  now  and  again, 
hearing  naught  from  the  other  couple,  Jardine 
hastily  glanced  up  at  them,  thinking  that  it 
was  the  gusts  that  annulled  the  sound  of  the  ex- 
clamations, silvery  and  joyous,  with  which  Lucia  in 
this  novel  and  coveted  amusement  must  be  regaling 
her  incongruous  companion  as  they  rose  together 
in  their  swing  ever  higher  and  higher  toward  the 
stars.  But  the  electric  bulbs  showed  her  face  very 
quiet  and  grave;  her  dress  gleamed  like  "  white 
samite,  mystic,  wonderful, "  against  the  purple 
dusk;  she  was  silent  and  to  his  great  gratification 
the  manager  sat  beside  her  as  uncommunicative  as 
if  he  had  been  a  part  of  the  machine,  essential  to 
its  utility,  like  one  of  the  dummy  horses  of  the 
merry-go-round.  A  very  well  conducted  young 
man,  Jardine  thought,  with  a  fervent  thanksgiving 

266 


The  Windfall 

that  matters  were  no  worse.  He  had  feared  that 
the  incongruity  of  a  simulated  flirtation  with  so 
inappropriate  a  subject,  might  attract  her  eager 
quest  of  amusement  and  her  mirthful  disposition 
to  horrify  and  tease  her  aunt.  He  formulated  an 
apology  in  his  inner  consciousness.  He  said  to 
himself  that  he  ought  to  have  known  her  well 
enough  to  realise  that  her  innate  sense  of  pro- 
priety would  conserve  all  the  essential  decorums, 
even  in  these  circumstances  so  conducive  to  un- 
conventionally. 

But  it  was  not  a  conventional  observation  that 
Lucia  saw  fit  to  address  to  the  manager,  as  he  still 
sat  silent,  and  it  surprised  him  beyond  measure. 

"  Do  you  think  this  is  a  suitable  business  for 
you?"  she  asked,  her  manner  stately  and  almost 
reproachful,  her  voice  low  but  icy,  her  beautiful 
head  turning  slowly  toward  him,  and  the  light  of 
those  magnetic  eyes  seeming  to  shine  through  his 
very  soul. 

Lloyd  had  not  been  silent  from  any  realisation  of 
the  difference  in  their  station,  any  humble  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  superiority  of  her  world.  He 
could  not  speak,  his  heart  beat  so  fast;  his  prox- 
imity to  the  goddess  that  she  seemed  abashed  his 
every  thought.  Her  beautiful  dress,  her  dainty 
hands,  the  exquisite  pose  of  her  head,  the  soft 
flutter  of  her  lovely  hair  in  the  wind,  each  made 
its  own  bewildering  demand  for  homage.  He  was 
in  the  thrall  of  an  appreciated  bliss,  so  perfect,  so 
unexpected  that  it  almost  overwhelmed  him.     He 

267 


The  Windfall 

had  never  dreamed  that  he  might  be  so  near  heaven 
as  thus  alone  with  her.  And  yet  until  to-day  he 
had  not  known  that  she  existed.  He  could  scarcely 
realise  that  she  could  turn  her  head  and  look  into 
his  eyes  and  speak  directly  to  him — it  scarcely 
mattered  what  were  the  words.  The  day  had 
been  hard;  the  dangers  that  menaced  him  were 
great;  the  difficulties  that  pressed  him  down  were 
heavy;  and  suddenly,  in  a  moment,  he  was  trans- 
lated into  elysium.  Swinging  so  elastically  in  the 
wind — the  medium  of  the  air  a  purple  dusk,  the 
river  molten  silver  in  the  moon  where  the  reflection 
of  the  splendid  cresset  glanced  upon  it  and  the  rest 
mystery,  the  mountains  vast  imposing  barriers 
against  all  the  sordid  world  beyond,  the  town  but 
a  bevy  of  flickering  lights  below,  and  above  the 
pure  white  fires  of  the  constant  stars — they  two 
were  side  by  side,  while  she,  the  ideal  loveliness, 
she  spoke  to  him ! 

"  Beg  pardon, "  Lloyd  said,  catching  at  the  neces- 
sity of  reply. 

"  Do  you  think  this  is  a  suitable  business  for 
you?  "  she  repeated. 

He  stared  at  her  for  a  moment  amazed,  hardly 
comprehending.  Then  recovering  himself  he 
made  an  effort  at  appropriate  rejoinder.  "  The 
business  ought  to  be  better  of  course,"  he  said. 
Then  he  hesitated  doubtfully.  His  heart  could 
but  expand  toward  her,  though  his  sensitive  nature 
must  needs  feel  the  topic  intrusive.  "  You  see — 
we  were  misinformed.     A  town  of  this  size  gen- 

268 


The  Windfall 

erally  has  an  outlying  population  that  makes  up  a 
toler'ble  payin'  crowd.  We  are  playin'  to  very 
little   money.     Business    is    poor — and   that's   the 

truth "    he    paused    abruptly,    for    she    had 

blushed  so  deeply  in  embarrassment  that  he  felt 
that  he  was  altogether  beyond  his  depth. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  the  financial  returns, "  she 
said,  beginning  to  falter.  She  hardly  knew,  she 
said  to  herself,  what  she  would  be  at.  Why 
should  she  have  fancied  that  this  man  would  un- 
derstand her — why  should  she  upbraid  him  with  a 
calling  below  his  merits?  Certainly  she  did  not 
understand  herself. 

"  Oh — beg  pardon,"  he  said,  obviously  con- 
fused, gazing  searchingly  at  her  in  the  electric 
light.  Her  face  was  pale,  a  trifle  agitated,  grave; 
her  eyes — they  looked  immortal,  they  were  from 
the  beginning  of  the  world,  for  all  time  to  come — 
the  beautiful  eyes,  with  a  thought — was  it  pity, 
was  it  sorrow,  was  it  faith — what  was  it  in  their 
depths? 

"  I  meant — I  meant,"  she  hesitated,  realising 
that  she  must  follow  her  suggestion  through — that 
there  was  no  opportunity  for  withdrawal,  for  re- 
cantation, "  I  meant  that  it  seems  that  you  ought 
to  have  a  better  kind  of  business." 

"  It  is  a  mighty  good  business  for  the  money 
that  is  in  it — it  is  the  best  show  for  the  investment 
that  ever  was  under  canvas,"  he  protested  with 
sudden  fervour — he  was  loyal  to  the  merits  of  his 
funny  little  show. 

269 


The  Windfall 

It  was  all  out  of  the  question,  she  felt  now — one 
of  her  sudden  mad  impulses — but  an  explanation 
must  needs  come.  She  would  not  for  the  world 
decry  the  little  exhibition,  on  which  he  had  lavished 
such  whole-souled  labour  and  thought  and  eager 
solicitude.  Besides  she  had  her  object  which  she 
could  hardly  interpret  even  to  herself.  Her  lips 
curved  suddenly  in  the  sweet  smile  that  was  wont 
to  embellish  them;  her  eyes  flashed  with  her  ready 
laughter.  He  was  looking  eagerly,  intently  at  her. 
But  her  ridicule  was  genial — she  was  laughing  with 
him  rather  than  at  him.  "  I'm  not  saying  a  word 
against  the  greatest  show  on  earth  nor  the  high 
dive  artist,  nor  the  snake  eater,  nor  the  beautiful 
dancing  oread;  but  I  shall  never  see  you  again,  and 
I  thought  I  would  tell  you  something  that  occurred 
to  me  to-day." 

The  swing  moved  gently  to  and  fro;  the  wind 
came  fresh  and  free  and  fluttered  her  white  dra- 
peries; she  gazed  far  off,  far  off  amongst  the  purple 
mountains;  in  the  valley  beyond  a  foothill  she 
could  see  a  red  spark  of  light,  so  high  they  were 
now,  at  the  very  summit  of  the  circumference,  the 
light  from  the  hearthstone  of  some  humble  home. 
The  golden  moon  still  showed  in  a  deep  indenta- 
tion of  the  horizon  line.  Mists  hovered  about  the 
lofty  domes  of  the  range.  The  stars  sparkled 
aloof  in  the  dark  blue  sky. 

Still  he  looked  intently  at  her  and  her  words 
came  with  difficulty:  "  Our  party  could  not  believe 
that  you  were  the  manager  of  this  little  show — not 

270 


The  Windfall 

because  it  is  a  poor  show,  but — because — you — you 
seem  different." 

Oh,  would  the  wheel  never  turn!  What  was 
she  saying,  and  why — why — should  she  say  it? 
What  madness  to  be  thus  isolated  between  heaven 
and  earth  so  that  she  must  face  out  to  the  end 
the  inexorable  statement  that  she  had  so  foolishly 
begun. 

His  coolness  somewhat  reassured  her.  "  Oh, 
you  mean  that  I  look  above  my  business,"  he  said 
quietly;  "that  is,  this  was  the  opinion  of  your 
party." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  in  grateful  renewal  of  con- 
fidence, "  Mr.  Jardine  said  that  you  looked  like 
a  gentleman — according  to  his  interpretation,  of 
course,  I  mean." 

"  I  hope,  for  his  sake,  that  it  is  a  just  interpre- 
tation," he  said  with  a  constrained,  inscrutable 
smile.  "  It  works  overtime,  that  word  '  gentle- 
man   ! 

"  So  often  I  have  heard  of  a  hint  shaping  a 
life,"  she  went  on  to  explain  her  meaning  more 
clearly;  "  I  thought  that  if  it  should  occur  to  you 
that  others  esteemed  you  capable  of  better  things 
it  might  be  an  inspiration  to  you  to  achieve  them." 

"  Much  obliged  to  Mr.  Jardine,"  he  said  equiv- 
ocally. 

"  Your  associates  in  the  show  are  so  accustomed 
to  you  and  to  themselves  that  probably  they  do 
not  perceive  the  difference." 

"  Real  or  imaginary,"  he  interpolated. 
271 


The  Windfall 

"  So  I  thought  I  would  tell  you,"  she  faltered, 
at  a  loss,  now  that  the  disclosure  was  at  an  end. 

"  Now,  Lydy,  I  want  to  say  one  thing  to  you — 
and  mind,  this  is  straight  goods — I  thank  you  on 
the  knees  of  my  heart  for  what  you  have  said  and 
how  you  have  said  it.  I  make  no  mistake  about 
that.  But  you  are  young,  and  maybe  you  don't 
know  that  it  is  a  deal  more  important  how  a  man 
does  a  thing  than  what  it  is  that  he  does.  I  can 
think  of  worse  things,  in  my  interpretation  of 
1  gentleman  '  than  being  a  showman — a  good  show- 
man, giving  full  value  in  exhibitions  and  entertain- 
ment for  the  money.  Now,  I  wonder  if  Mr. 
Jardine  ever  thought  of  a  lawyer,  who  neglects  his 
clients'  business  'cause  he's  lazy,  or  busy  about  his 
own  affairs; — or  a  preacher,  who  does  the  Lord's 
job  for  the  money  he  finds  in  it; — or  a  fortune- 
hunter  who  gets  a  rich  wife  to  take  him  off  his  own 
hands; — or  a  politician  who  buys  his  popularity 
— all  these  are  '  gentlemen  '  only  in  a  superficial 
appraisement.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  where  Mr.  Jar- 
dine's  view  ain't  in  it — he  thinks  because  I'm  put 
up  in  a  sort  o'  ornamental  case  that  I  look  like  a 
gentleman — but  the  Living  Skeleton,  who  is  an 
educated  man  and  right  rich  for  a  freak,  but  who 
ain't  put  up  in  any  case  at  all  scarcely,  Mr.  Jar- 
dine  would  never  think  of  for  a  gentleman.  It 
won't  do  to  trust  to  externals — Mr.  Jardine  sur- 
prises me  for  a  man  of  his  large  experience." 

She  gazed  searchingly  into  his  face  for  a  moment. 
She  could  descry  no  lingering  suspicion  there  that 

272 


The  Windfall 

she  had  used  Mr.  Jardine's  name  as  a  stalking- 
horse  over  which  to  fire  her  own  opinions.  It  was 
a  delectable  deceit,  but  she  knew  that  he  would 
have  forgiven  the  liberty — poor  Mr.  Jardine! 

"  If  ever  I  was  to  find  a  better  trade,  Lydy,  I'd 
take  it  with  psalms  of  thanksgiving.  But  until  I 
do  I  ain't  goin'  to  shirk  the  show  because  I  look 
like  a  gentleman.  The  main  stunt  is  to  act  like  a 
gentleman,  and  I  think  we  are  all  up  against  that." 

A  silvery  voice  called  out  in  the  night  to  Lucia, 
and  looking  backward  toward  Ruth  and  Jardine 
she  saw  that  their  swing  was  moving  upward  one 
degree,  and  that  they  had  reached  the  very  summit 
of  the  circumference.  With  the  consequent  de- 
scent of  one  degree  in  their  turn  Lucia  and  Lloyd 
were  now  on  a  lower  level.  There  seemed  no  ap- 
preciable difference  in  the  height,  however,  as  they 
gazed  over  the  landscape;  the  wind  still  rushed 
down  from  the  mountain  with  a  pungent  odour  of 
dank  leaves  and  a  fragrant  moisture  from  where 
the  rainfall  had  been  heavy;  the  clouds  still  in 
broken  ranks  fled  tumultuously  across  the  enstarred 
sky ;  the  misty  moon  was  slipping  down  behind  the 
purple  ranges — the  burnished  rim  was  visible  for 
another  moment  and  then  was  gone;  the  square  was 
yet  filled  with  people,  and  now  and  then  a  wild, 
raucous  yell  or  loud  voices  in  drunken  altercation 
gave  token  that  the  mysterious  inebriates  were 
again  astonishing  the  streets  of  the  dry  town ;  sev- 
eral of  the  tents  were  no  longer  illumined,  the 
day's  work  being  over  for  the  "  freaks  "  and  the 

273 


The  Windfall 

flying  lady;  the  merry-go-round  had  ceased  to  whirl 
and  whiz  and  the  band  was  playing  sentimental  airs 
on  the  grass  in  front  of  the  courthouse. 

As  the  swings  of  the  great  wheel  swayed,  gently 
pendulous,  in  the  breeze-filled  purple  night  above 
the  flaring  orange-tinted  lights  of  the  Carnival  be- 
low everything  seemed  jovial,  contented — a  suc- 
cessful day  drawing  serenely  to  a  close.  Suddenly 
from  the  swing  on  a  level  with  the  manager's  lofty 
perch  a  missile  shot  through  the  air;  it  passed  in  a 
straight  line  below  the  swing  where  Jardine  and 
Ruth  sat  at  the  summit  of  the  circumference  of  the 
wheel,  and  whizzing,  as  if  flung  from  a  sling,  it 
struck  Lloyd's  head  just  behind  the  ear  and  fell, 
a  compact  boulder,  as  large  as  a  man's  fist,  on  the 
ground  below. 

Lloyd,  bent  half  double  by  the  force  of  the  un- 
expected blow,  swayed  forward,  struggled  violently 
to  regain  his  place,  lost  his  balance,  and  like  a 
thunderbolt  fell  from  the  swing,  while  the  fren- 
zied pleasure-seekers,  all  safe  enough,  screamed  in 
sheer  dismay  at  the  sight. 

It  might  have  been  far  worse.  To  another  man 
the  fall  from  such  a  height  would  have  meant  cer- 
tain death,  but  with  the  presence  of  mind  and  the 
trained  strength  and  elasticity  of  the  professional 
acrobat,  the  showman  mechanically  gathered  re- 
newed control  of  his  muscles,  caught  at  one  of  the 
steel  spokes  that  upheld  the  structure  of  the  wheel, 
and  thus  arresting  the  precipitancy  of  the  descent 
turned  a  somersault  in  mid-air,  another  and  with 

274 


The  Windfall 

still  another  came  to  the  ground  amidst  a  tumult 
of  shouting  and  applause  from  the  crowd  assem- 
bling from  every  side  of  the  square. 

They  seized  upon  him  instantly,  noting  his  half- 
fainting  condition,  and  carried  him  bodily  to  the 
corner  drug  store,  where  the  prescriptionist  hastily 
administered  restoratives  and  medicated  the  wound 
in  an  inner  room  with  the  door  locked,  while  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  physician.  The  manager  was 
in  no  condition  to  be  questioned,  he  stated  to  a 
policeman  who  was  early  on  the  scene. 

With  an  augmented  sense  of  the  importance  of 
the  disaster  the  officer,  the  only  one  on  duty  in  the 
small  municipality,  returned  to  the  wheel  with  the 
intention  of  taking  the  names  and  addresses  of  all 
in  the  swings  at  the  time  of  the  attack. 

There  had  been  a  panic  amongst  the  occupants 
of  the  swings;  loud  and  frantic  shouts  for  libera- 
tion, for  the  turn  of  the  wheel,  had  predominated 
even  over  the  clamours  below  in  the  square.  The 
wheel  was  as  aversely  regarded  as  if  it  had  been 
the  instrument  of  torture  of  old  by  the  dizzy  wights 
who  clung  to  their  places  uttering  frenzied  ap- 
peals for  release,  for  they  feared  indeed  that  there 
was  a  madman  among  them.  In  obedience  to  the 
reiterated  cries  for  extrication  from  their  plight 
the  wheel  had  been  revolved  as  rapidly  as  prac- 
ticable, and  although  the  order  of  precedence 
among  the  settees  was  retained,  the  position  in  the 
periphery  at  the  time  of  the  disaster  could  not  be 
established,   and   it  was   now   impossible   to   say 

*7S 


The  Windfall 

whence  had  come  the  stone  so  quickly  flung  in  tKe 
darkness  during  the  rotation  of  the  machine.  A 
number  of  the  swings  had  already  been  vacated 
as  soon  as  the  ground  was  reached,  and  the  occu- 
pants of  others,  to  evade  testifying  or  suspicion, 
leaped  out  when  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  earth 
and  disappeared,  mingling  indiscriminately  with 
the  crowd.  Jardine  noticed  how  many  of  the  set- 
tees passed  by  the  wicket  already  empty  as  the  re- 
volving structure  brought  them  within  safe  descent 
and  he  imperatively  motioned  to  Lucia  in  advance 
to  vacate  the  swing  as  soon  as  the  pause  at  the 
ground  made  it  possible.  The  occupant  of  the  swing 
behind  Jardine  did  not  await  the  stoppage;  he  was 
a  countryman  in  a  long  greyish  coat  and  a  wide 
white  flapping  hat,  and  he  leaped  to  the  ground  in 
the  shadow  with  a  nimble  temerity  which  Jardine 
thought  altogether  inconsistent  with  his  slit  boots 
as  if  bunions  troubled  his  feet,  his  thick  stick,  his 
bent  figure  and  hobbling  gait  as  he  made  off  through 
the  shadows  which  the  intense  electric  lights  served 
to  deepen  about  the  stand.  Once  he  turned  and 
looked  back  and  catching  a  far  glimmer  of  the 
light  on  his  half-obscured  face  he  showed  two  rows 
of  strong  white  teeth  bared  in  a  grin  of  extreme 
relish. 

Haxon  was  on  the  scene  in  a  few  minutes,  wild 
with  anxiety  and  asking  hither  and  thither  how  the 
disaster  had  happened.  "  Where's  my  partner — 
if  my  partner  is  killed  we  are  all  ruined,' '  he  de- 
clared. 

276 


The  Windfall 

For  Lloyd  had  not  divulged  his  plan  of  action 
to  annul  false  suspicion  and  to  evade  the  aspect 
of  collusion  with  the  moonshiners  who  had  so 
craftily  utilised  the  presence  of  the  street  fair  to 
profitably  pursue  their  illegal  traffic. 

Haxon  showed  so  definite  a  determination  of 
detection  and  reprisal  that  Jardine,  gripping  his 
charges  each  by  the  elbow,  propelled  them  through 
the  darkness  toward  the  hotel,  demanding  through 
his  set  teeth  by  way  of  explaining  his  vehemence, 
"  Do  you  two  want  to  be  witnesses  in  a  police 
court?"  But  indeed,  they  were  tractable  enough 
as  they  sped  as  swiftly  as  he  dared  set  the  pace, 
that  they  might  not  seem  in  flight,  through  the 
half-deserted  square,  past  the  vacant  hucksters' 
stands,  the  shadowy,  lifeless  tents,  the  vague  equine 
figures  of  the  merry-go-round,  stiff  and  silent  in 
the  claro-obscuro,  cutting  across  the  courthouse 
yard  and  coming  at  last  to  the  hotel  verandah,  al- 
most vacant  at  this  hour. 

Lucia  was  so  trembling,  pale  and  shocked  that 
he  could  not  forbear  saying,  "  I  hope — I  do  hope, 
that  this  will  be  a  lesson  to  you,"  when  she  burst 
out  laughing;  and  when  Ruth,  scarcely  less  agitated, 
declared,  "  For  my  part  I  hope,  I  do  hope  that 
that  handsome  Mr.  Lloyd  is  not  killed,"  Lucia 
burst  into  tears. 


277! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

FRANK  came  in  presently  and  joined  the 
group,  for  until  the  hour  for  retiring  they 
were  monopolising  the  little  blue  reception 
room  as  a  private  parlour.  He  had  encouraging 
news  of  Lloyd.  "  He's  all  right,"  Frank  cheerily 
averred.  "  His  head  has  got  a  lump  on  it  as  big  as 
a  hen's  egg,  and  it  aches  to  beat  the  band.  The 
doctor  says,  though,  it  is  not  serious.  The  stone 
glanced  aside,  didn't  hit  him  squarely.  If  it  had 
he  would  have  been  a  deader  by  now.  Ought  to 
have  seen  '  Captain  Ollory  of  the  Royal  Navy ' 
fairly  blubber — he  is  a  good-hearted  old  kid." 

11  But  what  was  the  motive  of  the  attack?  "  Mrs. 
Laniston  asked,  enjoying  every  item  of  the  sensa- 
tion, without  the  jeopardy  and  the  shock. 

"  Nobody  can  imagine,"  said  Frank. 

"  Some  intoxicated  wretch,"  said  Jardine  dis- 
gustedly— he  felt  as  if  he  would  like  to  be  disin- 
fected, fumigated,  because  of  the  moral  effluvia  of 
such  low  company — he  had  never  been  in  such  a 
crowd  before  in  his  life. 

"  A  drunken  man  can't  sling  a  stone  with  a 
steady  hand  like  that,"  said  Frank.  "  I  did  hear  " 
he  added  with  a  sudden  after-thought, — "  that 
old  Shadrach  Pinnott's  son,  Tom — who  my  in- 

278 


The  Windfall 

formant  said  was  as  drunk  as  a  *  fraish  b'iled 
owel/ — ain't  that  a  lovely  expression  for  a  lovely 
state? — declared  that  the  man  who  threw  the  stone 
was  a  lover  of  Tom's  sister,  Clotildy  Pinnott— 
sweet  name ! — and  was  jealous  of  the  manager  fel- 
low who  had  taught  her  to  sing  and  dance  in  that 
dinky,  dainty  way.  The  manager  is  dead  in  love 
with  her,  too — so  the  discarded  lover  chews  the 
rag,  and  holds  the  bag,  and  hurls  the  bolt." 

Lucia,  who  had  ceased  her  tears  as  she  listened, 
pressing  her  handkerchief  once  and  again  to  her 
eyes,  as  she  was  thrown,  half  reclining  on  one  of 
the  sofas,  now  began  anew  to  sob  nervously,  and 
Jardine  looked  anxiously  at  Mrs.  Laniston,  as  if 
commending  the  demonstration  to  her  attention  and 
ministrations.  But  Mrs.  Laniston  was  eager  for 
the  news — she  had  had  a  dull  evening  at  the  hotel. 

"  Nefarious  business,"  she  commented. 

"  Of  course,"  declared  Frank.  "  Intent  to  com- 
mit murder.  The  man  tried  to  kill  Lloyd.  If  the 
manager  hadn't  been  a  ground-and-lofty-tumbler 
once  in  his  career — he  seems  to  have  been  some  of 
everything — all  'round  athlete — he  couldn't  have 
broken  his  fall  by  throwing  somersaults — he  would 
have  been  killed  by  the  fall  from  such  a  height." 

"  But  consider  the  frightful  danger  that  Lucia 
was  in,  mamma,"  cried  Ruth.  "  A  little  swerv- 
ing to  one  side  and  the  stone  would  have  struck 
her  head  instead  of  his." 

Frank's  boyish  red  face  grew  grave  and  dis- 
mayed. 

279 


The  Windfall 

"  Was  the  man  in  the  settee  beside  Lucia  ?  "  he 
asked  aghast,  hearing  this  detail  for  the  first  time. 

"  But,  for  God's  sake,  don't  mention  it,"  said 
Mr.  Jardine  testily,  rising  from  his  chair  and  tak- 
ing a  nervous  turn  through  the  room.  "  If  this 
miscreant  should  be  captured  and  a  trial  ensue,  it 
would  be  a  most  disageeable,  almost  derogatory 
thing  for  her  to  have  to  give  her  testimony  in  open 
court  under  these  circumstances.  Don't — don't 
mention  it." 

11  Certainly  not,"  said  Frank  formally.  "  I 
shall  bear  your  injunction  in  mind." 

No  one  can  so  bitterly  object  to  schooling  as  he 
who  stands  in  need  of  it.  In  reality  this  phase  of 
the  possibilities  had  not  occurred  to  the  youth,  and 
he  fully  appreciated  the  value  of  the  warning.  But 
he  deprecated  the  tone,  the  possessory  manner  in 
which  Mr.  Jardine  was  playing  the  role  of  tute- 
lary deity  to  the  family.  The  interest  of  the  sub- 
ject, however,  overpowered  his  rancour,  and  after 
a  momentary  pause  he  went  on  with  an  indignant 
sense  of  offended  dignity.  "  But  how  in  the  name 
of  all  that  is  stylish  did  the  manager  of  the  Street 
Fair  happen  to  be  escorting  Lucia?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Ruth,  with  a  deep  satirical  bow 
and  a  manner  of  punctilious  ceremony,  "you  were 
so  polite  as  to  decline  to  escort  her." 

"My  child!"  remonstrated  Mrs.  Laniston, 
aghast.  Then  turning  to  the  delinquent,  "  Why, 
Francis — how  is  this?" 

"  Frank  gave  us  the  slip — he  promised  to  meet 
280 


The  Windfall 

us,"  Ruth  with  true  sisterly  candour  was  bent  on 
fixing  his  remissness  upon  him. 

"  I  would  have  given  up  the  project,"  Mr.  Jar- 
dine  felt  it  incumbent  on  him  to  say.  "  But  we  had 
waited  a  good  while  and  the  crowd  was  very  im- 
patient; and  when  the  manager  proposed  to  take 
the  place  it  was  on  the  score  of  balancing  the  swing, 
and  really  it  seemed  a  little  too  pointed  and  con- 
scious to  decline — the  wheel  being  a  public  con- 
veyance, so  to  speak." 

"  And  besides,  he  didn't  give  you  time — he  didn't 
anticipate  a  refusal,"  said  Ruth.  "  He  selected 
Lucia  in  preference  to  me,  thank  goodness !  I  won- 
der that,  when  he  was  attacked,  Lucia  did  not  fall 
out  of  the  swing — it  shook  like  a  leaf  in  the  wind." 

"  Francis  should  have  been  with  you — I  thought 
that  was  what  you  went  out  for — to  escort  your 
relatives,"  Mrs.  Laniston  fixed  rebuking  eyes  on 
him. 

"  Oh,  I  did — I  did,"  Frank's  repentance  was  al- 
ways most  complete  and  disarming.  He  had  no 
nettling  reservation  of  justification.  His  square, 
rosy  face  was  crestfallen  and  concerned.  "  I  simply 
forgot !  I  stopped  for  some  cigarettes  at  the  cigar 
stand  in  the  bar-room — or  rather  where  the  bar 
ought  to  be — and  there  were  a  lot  of  country  fel- 
lows there,  spinning  yarns  of  bear-hunting  and 
trapping  wolves  in  the  mountains — I  stopped  to 
listen — quaint  characteristic  stories — and  I  had  no 
idea  of  how  the  time  was  passing.  I  am  awfully 
sorry,  Lucia.    But  my  apologies  do  no  good  now." 

281 


'The  Windfall 

"  You  needn't  apologise,"  said  Lucia  good- 
naturedly,  though  she  could  not  cease  to  sob  as  she 
spoke.  "  I  was  not  in  the  least  hurt — only  con- 
siderably scared — and  if  you  had  joined  us  in  time 
I  should  have  missed  the  most  sensational  incident 
of  my  experience." 

"  It  is  not  a  little  mortifying  to  me  that  I  should 
have  been  the  cause  of  it — and  of  your  appearing 
in  public  on  so  conspicuous  an  occasion  escorted  so 
inappropriately,  to  say  the  least  of  it." 

Frank  was  of  the  opinion  that  Jardine  was  in 
fault — he  should  have  called  the  excursion  off 
rather  than  consign  Lucia  to  such  escort.  He 
should  have  brought  the  young  ladies  back  to  the 
hotel,  if  anything  more  were  involved  than  their 
foolish,  childish  desire  to  swing  in  the  big  wheel. 
As  Frank  sat  solemnly  gazing  at  the  toes  of  his 
white  shoes,  one  hand  on  each  knee,  he  was  re- 
solving that  he  would  submit  this  view  of  the  case 
to  his  mother  as  soon  as  he  could  have  an  audience 
with  her  free  of  Jardine's  presence.  It  did  not  in 
the  slightest  degree,  he  felt,  mitigate  his  own  re- 
missness in  failing  to  appear,  but  surely  Jardine 
need  not  have  carried  out  the  plan  at  all  and  any 
hazards.  And  having  satisfied  his  conscience  to 
this  extent  he  began  to  seek  to  minimise  the  most 
nettling  and  derogatory  phases  of  the  incident,  as 
it  personally  concerned  his  relatives. 

"  I  don't  believe  the  point  that  he  was  acting  as 
escort  to  Lucia  will  be  brought  out  at  all,"  he  said. 
"  I  noticed  in  the  drug  store  that  when  '  Captain 

282 


The  Windfall 

Ollory '  asked  Lloyd  how  in  h-h-heaven  he  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  Ferris  Wheel  he  merely  an- 
swered that  he  went  to  balance  one  of  the  swings 
which  apparently  was  not  sufficiently  weighted  to 
be  satisfactory.    And  the  matter  seemed  to  pass." 

Lucia  drew  herself  into  a  sitting  posture.  The 
nervous  shock  she  had  undergone  showed  in  her 
pallor  and  the  dark  circles  under  her  eyes.  Her 
dainty  lace  blouse,  with  its  elbow  sleeves  revealing 
her  fair,  beautifully  proportioned  arms,  the  knots 
of  faint-hued  ribbon,  her  delicately  arranged  hair, 
all  seemed  incongruous  with  the  piteous  aspect  of 
her  tearful  eyes  and  the  pathetic  downward  droop 
of  her  lips. 

"  I  think  that  was  very  considerate  of  him,  espe- 
cially in  view  of  the  state  of  his  wound — don't  you, 
Aunt  Dora?  He  might  easily  have  overlooked 
that  point." 

"  Or  he  might  not  have  appreciated  it,"  Mrs. 
Laniston  assented. 

"  Yes,  he  would  appreciate  it,"  said  Frank,  wag- 
ging his  wise  head.  "  I  tell  you  now,  that  fellow 
is  as  delicate-minded  as  any  girl.  He  has  got  very 
popular  here  too — the  town  folks  were  fairly 
gushing  over  him  in  the  drug  store.  If  that  rascal 
were  caught  they'd  make  him  squeak,  you  bet  your 
life.     He  would  see  sights." 

Mr.  Jardine  was  not  an  imaginative  man,  but 
before  his  mental  vision  was  a  dull  night  scene  of 
dusky  purple  atmosphere,  veined  about  with  white 
lights,  and  hirpling  away  in  the  shadow  was  the 

283 


The  Windfall 

figure  of  a  grey-coated  old  man,  suddenly  turning 
over  his  shoulder  a  malignant  young  face  with  a 
grin  of  glistening  white  teeth. 

Jardine  gave  an  abrupt  start,  for  it  was  as  if  this 
recollection  had  become  visible  to  others,  when 
Frank,  still  sitting  in  his  pondering  attitude,  a  hand 
on  either  knee,  and  his  florid  face  bent  down,  said 
without  preamble — "  I  wonder  if  any  of  you  no- 
ticed this  afternoon  at  the  '  high-class  concert '  a 
fellow  with  an  old  whitey-grey  coat  who  looked  in 
the  back  like  an  old  man  and  had  a  young  face, 
if  you  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  it  under  the  flapping 
brim  of  an  old  white  hat." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  cried  Ruth  excitedly.  "  When  I 
said  the  scene  was  merely  a  by-play  and  the  real 
romance  was  when  the  manager  had  fallen  in  love 
with  the  girl  he  had  trained  so  beautifully,  this 
man,  who  was  sitting  in  front  of  us,  turned  and 
looked  straight  into  my  eyes  as  if  he  would  deny 
it — as  if  he  could  destroy  me  for  the  suggestion." 

"  I  noticed  that  too,"  said  Lucia.  "  That  is 
what  made  me  remember  him  when  I  saw  him 
again  to-night — in  the  same  old  whitey-grey  coat 
and  flapping  white  hat.  He  was  in  the  wheel  with 
us — in  a  swing  alone — just  behind  you  and  Mr. 
Jardine." 

"Ladies — ladies — let  me  beg  of  you — I  must 
insist  that  you  do  not  pursue  this  line  of  thought !  " 
Jardine  admonished  them.  "  You  do  not  want  to 
convince  yourselves,  that  your  consciousness  may 

convince   others "    he   paused   dumbfounded. 

284 


The  Windfall 

He  was  himself  advancing  the  matter.  He  was 
formulating  their  conclusion,  inchoate  as  yet — he 
was  putting  it  into  systematic  words. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Jardine,"  cried  Ruth  with  the  ca- 
dence of  discovery,  and  rising  to  her  feet,  "you 
think  that  this  man  was  the  criminal — that  it  was 
a  case  of  jealousy." 

"  No — no — that  is  precisely  the  impression  I  do 
not  wish  to  give,"  Jardine  protested.  "  I  am  sure 
I  do  not  know,  and  I  have  no  right  to  accuse  or 
suspect  anyone." 

"  Well,  /  know,"  declared  Ruth  recklessly;  "  the 
whole  matter  is  as  plain  as  a  pike-staff.  I  saw  a 
perfect  inferno  of  wrath  in  his  eyes  when  I  said 
that  the  manager  was  in  love  with  that  beautiful 
mountain  girl.  And  when  we  were  photographing 
her  I  noticed  that  she  looked  at  Mr.  Lloyd  with 
adoring  eyes.  He  has  taken  her  away  from  her 
mountain  lover,  and  these  primitive  people  have 
primitive  reprisals.  Mr.  Lloyd  has  paid  the  pen- 
alty for  his  easy  fascinations." 

"  Ruth,  you  must  not  run  on  so,"  Mrs.  Laniston 
admonished  her,  after  having  listened  with  interest 
to  the  end  of  the  cogent  speculations.  "  For 
heaven's  sake,  how  ill  Lucia  is  looking,"  she  broke 
off  suddenly.  "  You  are  tired,  Lucia ;  you  need 
rest,  my  dear,  after  all  these  excitements.  Come — 
we  must  say  good-night."  She  rose  rather  wearily 
herself,  and  stood  for  a  moment  while  the  others 
reluctantly  came  to  a  standing  posture  and  gath- 
ered themselves  together  in  a  group. 

285 


The  Windfall 

"  It  is  really  quite  necessary  that  we  should  not 
put  mere  suspicions  into  words — very  unpleasant 
consequences  might  ensue,"  Jardine  ventured.  He 
noted  in  the  mirror  over  the  mantelpiece  how  anx- 
ious, and  patient,  and  sharpened  was  his  face.  He 
had  already  felt  that  his  dignity  had  never  been  so 
seriously  compromised  as  in  the  events  of  the  day, 
but  this  possibility  was  of  far  more  importance. 

"  You  are  very  right,  Mr.  Jardine,"  Mrs.  Lan- 
iston  assented.  Then  turning  to  Ruth  with  an  ad- 
monitory air,  "  Really,  I  think  that  we  have  had 
quite  enough  of  undesirable  publicity  and  sensa- 
tion. You  might  presently  find  yourself  swearing 
to  your  fancies  in  court.  You  must  heed  Mr.  Jar- 
dine's  very  sensible  warnings,  for  which  /  at  least 
am  much  obliged.  [Ruth  wheeled  about  and  made 
him  a  pretty  little  mirthful  bow  of  smiling  ac- 
knowledgments.] You  might  actually  swear  a 
man's  liberty  away  with  your  foolish  impressions. 
This  is  a  serious  matter  and  you  must  rein  your 
tongue." 

"  I  am  mute;  I  am  mute,"  Ruth  declared  gaily, 
"  and  here  is  Lucia  with  not  even  a  word  to  throw 
to — to  Wick-Zoo." 

"  I  can  say  good-night  at  least — and  thank  you 
very  much,  Mr.  Jardine,"  Lucia  remarked  lan- 
guidly. She  was  as  pale,  she  seemed  as  fragile  as 
the  lace  she  wore.  He  accompanied  them  along  the 
verandah  to  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  and  as  their 
white  draperies  rustled  up  the  flight  into  the 
shadowy  dimness   of  the  upper  story  he  turned 

286 


The  Windfall 

away  with  a  practical  anxious  solicitude,  character- 
istic of  a  husband  or  father  rather  than  a  lover, 
wondering  if  Mrs.  Laniston  realised  the  serious- 
ness of  a  nervous  shock,  and  if  it  would  have  been 
too  intrusive  to  suggest  calling  in  a  physician  to 
prescribe.  This  trend  of  thought  led  to  the  alterna- 
tive of  a  stimulant  rather  than  a  drug.  A  glass 
of  wine  could  do  no  harm,  and  he  hurried  to  the 
office  with  the  intention  of  sending  up  a  bottle  of 
the  best  that  the  town  afforded  with  a  plate  of 
wafers  or  crackers  of  some  delicate  sort. 

The  duck-like  clerk  dashed  his  hopes  with  a 
single  quack.  "  Dry  town,  Mr.  Jardine,"  he  re- 
minded the  guest   jocosely. 

Jardine  remembered  his  brandy  flask.  He  had 
left  it,  well  filled,  at  New  Helvetia. 

"  This  is  really  a  case  of  necessity,"  he  said,  and 
then  checked  himself  abruptly.  The  circumstances 
of  the  nervous  shock  it  would  not  be  well  to  un- 
necessarily detail. 

"  Mrs.  Laniston  ill?  "  asked  the  clerk,  drawing 
his  visage  into  such  an  expression  of  respectful 
sympathy  as  might  do  homage  to  one  of  the  valued 
patrons  of  the  house.  "  Sorry,  indeed.  Would 
be  glad  to  provide  the  stimulants.  Interests  of 
house  prevent.  Law  strictly  enforced.  Sorry, 
indeed." 

Then  a  sudden  new  thought  seemed  to  strike 
him.  "  No  law  against  tipping  you  a  wink."  He 
began  to  laugh  very  much.  "  I  wouldn't  tell  such 
a   thing   to   the   young  man,    Frank — of   course. 

287 


The  Windfall 

Promising  boy.  Confide  in  your  discretion.  Dis- 
tinguished stranger  in  town.  Retiring  disposition. 
Dispenses  for  a  consideration.  Holds  forth  in 
seclusion.  Best  of  reasons.  Follow  the  first  tipsy 
hill-billy  you  see.  Meet  up  with  something.  Sur- 
prise you.  Purest  liquor  in  the  world.  Absolutely 
unadulterated."  The  duck  smacked  his  bill  to- 
gether and  quacked  forth  a  laugh  of  the  most 
wicked  relish. 

As  a  matter  of  curiosity  Jardine  had  been  given 
the  opportunity  more  than  once  at  New  Helvetia 
to  sample  certain  spirits  said  to  issue  from  no 
bonded  still.  There  hung  about  this  beverage  a 
wholesome  home-made  flavour,  or  perhaps  its  ex- 
traordinary strength  and  its  colourless  limpidity 
imparted  a  persuasion  of  its  purity.  He  was  easily 
convinced  of  the  value  of  the  commodity,  but  he 
only  doubtfully  thanked  the  clerk  and  walked  forth 
on  the  verandah,  his  ardour  very  definitely 
quenched. 

He  had  made  for  Lucia  Laniston  this  day  sacri- 
fices of  inclination  and  conviction  altogether  dis- 
proportioned  to  the  trivial  matters  that  had  con- 
strained them.  He  would  not  have  believed  him- 
self capable  of  so  much  self-abnegation  as  they  had 
involved.  He  could  have  done  greater  things  that 
were  in  accord  with  his  tastes,  his  habits,  his  sense 
of  the  appropriate,  with  far  less  strain  upon  his 
generosity.  It  seemed  to  him  now  that  he  had  in- 
deed reached  the  limit.  To  be  recommended  to 
sally  forth  to  seek  a  moonshiner's  lair! — he  was 

288' 


The  Windfall 

amazed  and  affronted  that  the  clerk  should  have 
ventured  such  a  suggestion.  Then  he  reflected  that 
he  had  said  that  it  was  a  case  of  necessity,  and  not 
even  the  drug  stores  were  privileged  to  keep  the 
ardent  stuff  for  medical  purposes. 

It  was  indeed  a  case  of  necessity,  he  said  to  him- 
self, remembering  the  transparent  pallor  of  Lucia's 
face,  the  nerveless  flaccidity  of  her  cold  little  hand 
as  he  had  held  it  in  his  grasp  for  one  moment  in 
the  good-night  leave-takings.  He  loved  her  in  a 
plain,  home-like,  hearty  fashion.  He  would  have 
been  constant  himself,  and  unreceptive  to  little 
variations  of  sentiment  in  her;  he  would  not  have 
entertained  captious  and  suspicious  theories  as  to 
minutiae  of  tone  and  word  and  manner;  he  would 
not  have  sought  unhappiness  in  analysing  his  own 
affection  and  the  degree  of  responsive  warmth  it 
awakened  had  she  once  accepted  his  devotion  and 
promised  her  love  in  return.  He  would  have  be- 
lieved placidly  in  her  and  continued  altogether  con- 
fident in  himself.  He  was  solicitous  for  her  wrell- 
being,  her  health,  her  happiness  in  a  reasonable 
sense.  Had  he  been  sure  of  her  heart,  her  ap- 
proval of  himself,  he  would  not  have  hesitated  to 
deny  her  all  the  fantastic  follies  that  had  no  real 
value  as  amusement  and  that  had  served  to  make 
the  day  a  nettling  penance  to  him,  as  it  should  have 
been  to  any  other  sane  being.  But  any  valid  pleas- 
ure, any  opportunity  of  worldly  advantage,  any  cul- 
tivated and  appropriate  enjoyment — he  would  have 
strained  every  nerve  to  afford  her  these.    The  idea 

289 


The  Windfall 

that  she  was  neglected,  that  her  aunt  did  not  realise 
the  shock  she  had  endured,  that  she  was  suffering 
for  aught  that  he  could  procure  and  he  alone — he 
clapped  his  correct  hat  on  his  priggish  head  and 
started  out  into  the  night. 

It  was  dank  and  cool ;  the  winds  were  still  astir 
in  the  upper  atmosphere,  for  the  clouds  raced  con- 
tinually athwart  the  densely  enstarred  sky.  The 
town,  stretching  away  in  straggling  streets  along 
the  hillside,  was  dark  save  for  the  lamps  at  reg- 
ular intervals;  here  and  there  an  upper  window 
shone  above  shrubbery  and  vines,  the  chamber  of 
some  late  patron  of  the  Street  Fair  or  perchance  a 
sick-room.  The  square  was  almost  deserted;  the 
business  houses  were  dark,  presenting  the  blank 
front  of  their  shutters  to  the  passer-by;  only  the 
drug  store  was  yet  alight  and  groups  of  loiterers 
congregated  here,  more  than  one  exhibiting  the 
unsteady  footsteps  in  which  the  hotel  clerk  had 
recommended  his  patron  to  walk  for  the  nonce. 

These  wavering  steps  set  a  languid  pace  along 
the  quiet  country  road  for  a  considerable  distance. 
Trees  grew  close  on  either  hand  but  there  were  few 
dwellings;  they  were  dark  and  silent,  with  one  ex- 
ception where  a  frantically  barking  dog  dragged 
a  block  and  chain  around  a  dooryard,  unaccus- 
tomed to  be  thus  accoutred  by  night,  and  possibly 
restrained  to  avoid  harassing  the  unusual  number 
of  harmless  wayfarers  along  the  highroad.  The 
stars  gave  sufficient  light  to  show  the  direction  of 
the  thoroughfare  and  the  eccentric  gait  of  the  guide 

290 


The  Windfall 

whom  Jardine  had  elected  to  follow.  There  was 
a  footbridge  visible  spanning  the  river;  many  a 
broken  stellular  reflection  flashed  from  the  dark, 
lustrous  surface,  and  the  foam  of  the  rapids  was 
assertively  white  in  the  claro-obscuro.  Jardine  had 
a  sense  of  anxiety  lest  the  feet  of  the  "  hill-billy  " 
in  advance  were  too  unsteady  to  carry  him  safely 
across  the  narrow  structure.  But  he  presently  de- 
scried him  meandering  cheerfully  along  on  the 
sit,  he  had  paused  and  clung  fearfully  to  the  hand- 
further  side,  although  at  one  point,  when  in  tran- 
rail,  and  cried  aloud  in  thick,  drunken  accents  that 
he  was  falling — he  was  a  goner — he  was  a  goner! 
— "  Tell  Polly  Ann  how  I  died — how  I  died — how 

I  died!  " All  the  solemn  rocks  and  all  the 

impressive  dark  solitudes  echoed  and  re-echoed  the 
serio-comic  mandate,  till  even  after  Jardine  had 
crossed  he  noted  a  crag  that  was  still  rehearsing 
the  words  as  if  in  conscious  mimicry. 

There  seemed  no  goal  to  this  night  jaunt,  and 
Mr.  Jardine  was  beginning  to  feel  a  fool  in  his 
own  estimation — a  catastrophe  he  dreaded,  for  he 
was  fain  to  think  well  of  himself — when  he  met 
two  or  three  hilarious,  roaring  wights  coming  town- 
ward  singing  with  more  uproarious  mirth  than 
melody — "  A  leetle  mo'  cider,  too,  an'  a  leetle  mo' 
cider,  too." 

He  was  glad  of  the  darkness  that  precluded  their 
notice,  as  they  passed,  that  he  was  of  a  different 
type  from  that  proclaimed  by  their  accent.  But 
as  he  turned  a  sudden  curve  of  the  road  obscurity 

291 


The  Windfall 

no  longer  protected  him.  He  must  have  been  in- 
stantly visible  even  at  the  distance  in  the  flaring 
fires  of  an  encampment  which  sent  far-reaching  red 
pulsations  through  the  woods  and  across  the  dark 
waters  of  the  river.  A  dozen  torch  standards,  after 
the  manner  of  the  lights  of  the  street  fair,  showed 
rude  tables  whereon  barbecued  meats,  salt-rising 
breads,  and  home-made  cakes  and  pies  were  dis- 
pensed at  prices  which  no  doubt  undercut  the 
charges  for  such  refreshments  in  the  town.  There 
were  two  barrels,  brazenly  displayed,  placed  close 
together  with  a  small  plank,  shelf-like,  from  one 
to  the  other,  holding  glasses  and  a  big  blue  pitcher. 
In  the  background  was  a  stanch  waggon,  of  which 
the  white  canvas  hood  was  no  mean  shelter 
from  the  weather  had  one  needed  it;  two  or  three 
of  the  dogs  were  now  asleep  on  the  straw  be- 
neath it.  An  old  woman,  a  younger  one,  with 
an  infant  in  arms,  and  a  girl  of  eighteen,  perhaps, 
grouped  about  the  fire  gave  a  touch  of  domesticity 
to  the  scene.  Naught  could  seem  further  removed 
from  the  suggestion  of  law-breaking  and  defiance 
of  vested  authority.  An  eating-stand  at  a  distance 
from  the  town,  to  escape  the  municipal  tax  on  a 
lunch  counter,  and  yet  catch  the  country  custom, 
to  make  some  small  profits  on  the  occasion  and  see 
the  Carnival — what  more  candid?  Jardine  felt 
pierced  through  and  through  with  the  vigilance  of 
the  eyes  focussed  upon  him  as  he  advanced  in  the 
light.  And  never  was  there  more  virtuous  indig- 
nation expressed  in  voice  and  manner  than  was 

29% 


The  Windfall 

shown  by  an  elderly  man  with  a  bushy  red  beard 
and  a  pale  stolid  face  and  a  brown  jeans  suit,  stand- 
ing at  the  refreshment  counter,  as  Jardine  came  up 
and  proffered  his  request. 

"  Brandy — or  whisky?  why,  stranger,  we  ain't 
sellin'  whisky  and  brandy.  It's  agin  the  Fed'ral 
law  'thout  ye  air  able  to  pay  a  tax  and  hire  a  spy 
to  watch  you.  And  it's  agin  the  town  law,  bein'  a 
dry  town.  We  uns  hev  got  a  good  supper  cooked 
an*  some  powerful  ch'ice  apple  cider  hyar  though. 
We  uns  got  a  fine  orcherd  in  good  bearin'  this 
year,  but  we  wouldn't  even  sell  a  bottle  o'  cider — 
we  sell  by  the  drink— thar  ain't  no  money  in  it 
cept'  by  the  drink." 

And  when  Jardine  had  declined  this  refreshment 
the  old  woman  beside  the  fire  rose  and  came  for- 
ward and  earnestly  essayed  to  sell  him  one  of  the 
home-made  baskets.  She  was  most  voluble  as  she 
recommended  her  wares.  "  They  ain't  no  cur'ous 
baskets  like  them  Injuns  make  over  ter  Qualla- 
town,  stranger,"  she  said.  "  They  ain't  no  quare 
shape  with  some  kind  o'  spell  in  the  weavin' — they 
tell  me  that  them  baskets  kin  be  read  like  a  book 
by  them  ez  hev  got  the  key  o'  the  braid.  But  I 
ain't  one  as  would  want  some  onholy  witch-like 
savage  saying  ter  be  in  use  round  my  fireside,  a- 
repeatin'  a  spell  or  a  curse  on  me  an'  mine  ever' 
time  it  was  handled  in  the  light.  Now,  hyar  is  a 
reg'lar,  homefolks,  sanctified,  Christian  basket,  ez 
don't  mean  nuthin'  but  a  quarter  of  a  dollar. 
That's  all  the  magic  there  is  about  it.     It's  good 

293 


The  Windfall 

and  solid  and  roomy,  stranger,  an'  yer  lady  would 
find  it  so  convenient  to  hold  chips  around  the 
hearthstone.      Try    it,    stranger — jes'    twenty-five 


cents." 


Jardine  was  ashamed  to  refuse  altogether  any 
expenditure  of  money  and  presently  he  was  trudg- 
ing along  the  road  to  Colbury  with  the  basket  in 
his  hand  and  a  fund  of  information  as  to  the  in- 
genious methods  in  which  the  moonshiners  were 
successfully  defying  the  Federal  law.  Had  he  been 
known  to  the  distillers,  or  perhaps  had  he  merely 
demanded  a  drink  he  would  have  been  served  with 
the  brush  whisky  in  one  of  the  primitive  gourds, 
since  the  evidence  must  needs  have  gone  down  his 
throat  at  the  stand,  and  few  men  would  have 
sought  the  informer's  reward  at  the  risk  of  the  in- 
former's fate  on  the  testimony  of  a  recollected 
flavour,  which  is  hardly  proof  in  any  court.  That 
the  two  barrels  indeed  contained  cider  was  obvious 
by  the  fragrance — the  more  fiery  liquor  was  in  some 
secret  receptacle  not  so  easily  seen  and  seized,  se- 
cured perhaps  when  the  moonshiner  turned  back 
to  the  spring,  which  he  did  more  than  once  to  rinse 
the  gourds  in  the  waters  of  its  branch. 

Despite  the  appearance  of  an  invincible  security, 
however,  Jardine  was  forcibly  reminded  of  the 
pitcher  that  goes  to  the  well ;  he  saw  clearly  in  the 
future  the  inevitable  consequences  of  the  extreme 
daring  of  the  old  moonshiner,  rendered  unduly  ven- 
turesome by  long  immunity  and  prideful  faith  in  his 
own  ingenious  craft.     The  idea  struck  Jardine's 

294 


The  Windfall 

mind,  with  a  most  unpleasant  collocation  of  cir- 
cumstances, that  the  Street  Fair  must  profit  largely 
by  this  extraordinary  opportunity  to  the  inebriates 
of  the  whole  surrounding  region.  Since  the  clos- 
ing of  the  saloons  in  Colbury  the  poorer  class,  by 
far  the  larger,  must  needs  be  constrained  to  pur- 
chase in  the  quantity  by  shipment  from  some  city, 
or  in  default  of  the  price  for  this  luxury,  or  the 
hindrance  of  distance  and  ignorance,  be  reduced  to 
the  absolute  despair  of  temperance.  Doubtless  for 
the  facilities  of  boozing  by  the  drink  they  had 
flocked  into  Colbury  by  scores,  where  in  the  close 
vicinity  the  flowing  bowl  might  be  drained  for  a 
nickel,  and  the  moonshiners  might  justly  have  con- 
sidered themselves  entitled  to  a  share  of  the  profits 
of  the  show  since  their  powerful  attraction  must 
have  added  so  largely  to  the  gate  receipts.  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders  mechanically  in  the  effort 
to  shake  off  the  suspicion  which  he  had  begun  to 
entertain.  The  Street  Fair  was  so  obviously  play- 
ing in  hard  luck;  was  so  pitifully  inadequate  as  an 
exhibition,  in  his  opinion;  its  financial  resources 
were  evidently  so  limited  that  this  phenomenal  op- 
portunity of  recruiting  its  exchequer  rendered  it  pe- 
culiarly liable  to  a  charge  of  collusion  with  the 
moonshiners,  in  the  estimation  of  almost  any  man 
seeking  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  so  many 
inebriated  spectators  of  the  show  on  the  streets  of 
a  dry  town.  Only  the  appearance  and  manner  of 
Lloyd  caused  him  to  doubt  his  conclusion,  and  then 
he  wondered  at  himself  that  the  endowments  of 

2951 


The  Windfall 

unusual  personal  beauty,  a  thing  valueless  in  a  man, 
absolutely  apart  from  character  or  station,  a  gift, 
an  accident,  together  with  a  grave  and  gentlemanly 
address,  which  was  also  a  fortuitous  circumstance, 
should  weigh  with  him  for  an  instant  where  an  itin- 
erant faker  was  concerned.  In  this  development 
of  the  situation  he  was  infinitely  nettled  that  this 
man,  the  manager  of  the  show,  and  doubtless  the 
prime  mover  and  responsible  agent  of  this  unlaw- 
ful whisky  traffic,  should  have  been  brought  into 
any  association  with  Miss  Laniston,  however  cas- 
ual and  temporary.  He  ground  his  teeth  with  in- 
dignant contempt  that  it  was  possible  that  she 
should  ever  exchange  a  syllable  with  such  a  man, 
should  be  seated  beside  him  in  the  Ferris  Wheel 
in  the  midst  of  an  attack  upon  him,  stimulated  by 
jealousy  or  whisky  or  both.  Jardine  was  not  a 
profane  man,  for  oaths  are  ever  bad  form,  but 
between  his  gritting  teeth  he  cursed  Frank  Laniston 
again  and  again  that  his  callow  folly  should  have 
left  his  position  vacant  by  her  side,  and  open  to 
the  possibility  of  such  a  contretemps. 

Jardine  canvassed  almost  in  a  state  of  nervous 
panic  the  probability  that  these  facts  might  be 
remembered  by  the  police  should  the  camp  of  the 
moonshiners  be  raided  by  the  revenue  force  and 
the  manager  of  the  Street  Fair  be  implicated. 
Even  if  no  more  should  result  than  a  casual  men- 
tion in  such  an  investigation  it  would  be  an  indig- 
nity insupportable  in  his  estimation.  And  should 
the  miscreant  who  attacked  the  manager  be  dis- 

296 


The  Windfall 

covered  would  not  her  testimony  be  required  to 
establish  the  facts?    The  tormentingly  acute  div- 
ination of  the  two  young  girls  had  fixed  on  the 
culprit,  he  was  convinced,  and  should  some  unwary 
word  from  them  lead  to  his  discovery  a  prosecu- 
tion would  involve  to  them  as  witnesses  the  most 
annoying    and    derogatory    conspicuousness.     He 
hardly  knew  how  he  could  answer  to  his  friends, 
their  respective   fathers,   that  while   in  his   care, 
assumed  of  sheer  good-will  though  it  was,  such 
social    inappropriateness   could    be    permitted    to 
supervene.     They  were   not   at  the   end   of   this 
miserable  tangle — and  he  felt  greatly  to  blame. 
Yet  with  no  authority,   a   disregarded  advice,   a 
thousand  hampering  constraints  on  speaking  his 
mind  candidly,  how  could  he  do  more  than  he  had 
in  protection,  and  counsel,  and  care?     He  wished 
to  high  heaven  that  the  Laniston  Brothers  were  not 
so  intent  on  turning  the  trick  in  the  late  advance 
in  the  price  of  cotton,  and  would  give  their  per- 
sonal attention  to  the  precious  interests  of  their 
families.     He  was  conscious  that  by  this  collective 
term  he  meant  only  Lucia,  and  he  was  fair  enough 
to  admit  to  himself  that  under  the  chaperonage  of 
her   aunt,    and   with   the   companionship    of   her 
cousins,  male  and  female,  and  the  volunteer  tute- 
lage of  a  friend  of  the  family,  an  experienced  man 
of  the  world,  George  Laniston  was  amply  justified 
in  thinking  his  only  daughter  safe  enough,   and 
well  out  of  harm's  way. 

So  perverse  were  the  circumstances  that  Jardinc 
297 


The  Windfall 

thought  that  even  his  own  excursion  to-night  might 
be  subject  to  misconstruction — and  he  hedged  im- 
mediately on  the  chance.  As  he  had  not  succeeded 
in  his  quest  there  was  certainly  scant  utility  in 
seeming  to  have  patronised  the  moonshiners. 
There  was  no  great  change  in  the  aspect  of  the 
town  as  he  entered  it — a  torch  a-flare  here  and 
there  among  the  tents;  the  street  lamps  shining  at 
regular  intervals;  the  drug  store  alone  alight 
among  the  silent  business  houses  of  the  quadrangle; 
the  gas  ablaze  in  the  hotel  office,  and  although,  so 
short  was  his  absence,  the  duck  was  off  duty  he 
still  lingered  in  the  room  lighting  a  thick  cigar 
at  the  little  lamp  for  the  purpose  on  the  counter. 

"  No  go,"  said  Jardine* — he  had  earlier  thrown 
away  his  basket. 

The  duck  raised  astonished  eyebrows.  "  I'd 
resent  that.     Personal.     Listen,  will  you?" 

A  voice  mellow,  clear,  floated  in  from  the  street 
* — singing  in  beatitude — marred  only  by  hiccoughs, 
and  now  and  then  a  wild  involuntary  wail  off  the 
key.  "  We  won't  go  home — we  won't  go  home — 
we  won't  go  home  till  mornin', — till  daylight  doth 
appear." 

When  silence  ensued  the  duck  said  significantly: 
"  All  the  rope  they  want — hang  themselves — don't 
even  run  them  in.     Visitors  soon.     Official." 


298 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  next  morning  when  Jardinc  issued 
early  forth  from  the  little  blue  reception- 
room,  where  he  had  tossed  sleepless  al- 
most throughout  the  night  on  the  folding  cabinet 
bed,  he  paused  on  the  verandah,  staring  in  stulti- 
fied amaze.  Not  a  tent  was  visible  on  the  square, 
not  a  huckster's  stand.  The  great  circumference 
of  the  Ferris  Wheel  no  longer  vexed  with  its  in- 
congruous periphery  the  august  mountain  scene 
which  it  had  framed.  Not  a  spieler's  horn  could 
be  heard,  nor  an  echo  of  the  brazen  melodies 
of  the  band;  the  wooden  horses  of  the  merry-go- 
round  seemed  to  have  galloped  away  in  the  night. 
There  was  not  even  the  mast  for  the  high  dive, 
nor  the  reservoir  that  broke  the  fall  of  the  leap- 
ing acrobat.  The  street  fair  had  vanished,  like  an 
exhalation  of  the  night  in  the  beams  of  the  morn- 
ing sun.  Jardine  might  have  doubted  his  senses, 
save  for  the  crowds  of  wondering  rustics  that 
wandered  dolefully  up  and  down  the  pavements, 
disconsolate,  disappointed.  Now  and  again  groups 
paused  before  written  notices  pasted  on  the  door 
of  the  courthouse  and  of  the  post  office,  and  at 
the  distance  seemed  to  discuss  it,  and  then  moved 
aimlessly  away,  making  space  for  other  groups  on 
like  errands.  Another  placard  was  at  the  main 
entrance  of  the  hotel,  also  under  frequent  consul- 

299 


The  Windfall 

tation  by  drearily  strolling  groups  of  the  more 
prosperous  class  of  country  folks.  It  was  of  course 
impossible  to  decipher  it  at  the  distance,  but  as 
Jardine  moved  toward  it  he  was  accosted  by  the 
duck-like  clerk,  seated  in  the  office  window  opening 
on  the  verandah. 

''Complete  surprise,  ain't  it?"  said  the  clerk 
jovially.    "  Jig's  up." 

"  The  fair  is  gone?  "  asked  Jardine  futilely. 

"  Do  you  see  any  fair?  "  quacked  the  duck.  "  I 
don't."  ' 

"  Isn't  it  very  sudden?  "  Jardine  demanded. 

"  Liked  to  broke  my  neck,"  declared  the  clerk 
hyperbolically.     "  Left  on  the  morning  train." 

"What's  the  reason  for  it?"  Jardine  asked, 
looking  again  toward  the  posted  notice. 

He  was  experiencing  the  most  intense  relief. 
All  the  troubles  that  had  infested  his  consciousness 
were  annihilated.  The  vanishing  of  the  street 
fair  was  like  awakening  from  a  nightmare — a 
deep  sense  of  gratitude  contended  with  a  feeling 
that  his  troubles  had  been  unreal,  overstrained, 
gratuitous. 

"  Oh,  they  give  the  plain  facts — straight  goods 
— honest  fellow,  that  Lloyd.  Couldn't  pay  ex- 
penses any  longer — only  made  their  transportation 
in  three  days.    Disbanded  show,  and  lit  right  out." 

He  had  jumped  down  on  the  inner  side  of  the 
office,  then  turned  anew  to  the  window,  as  if  with 
a  sudden  thought. 

"  That  fellow,  Captain  Ollory — keen  to  get 
300 


The  Windfall 

away — never  saw  a  man  so  rattled!  Here  in  the 
office  last  night  they  had  it  out — one  of  them  had 
to  stay.  He  wouldn't — he'd  have  walked  to  New 
York  first — said  so — perfectly  wild !  " 

Jardine  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  he  had  beheld 
a  Gorgon's  face — his  own  seemed  petrified. 

"  Then  that  manager — that  rascal  Lloyd  is  here 
yet?  "  he  asked. 

The  clerk  seemed  disconcerted. 

"  Hard  phrase,  Mr.  Jardine."  Then  he  hesi- 
tated as  if  he  thought  he  had  said  too  much.  It 
was  no  part  of  his  duty  as  clerk  of  the  Avoca 
House  of  Colbury  to  censor  the  guests'  criticism 
of  each  other.  "  Poor  business,  but  no  man  could 
behave  more  fairly.  Lloyd  wanted  to  go,  but  gave 
up  the  preference.  Ollory  seemed  possessed  to  get 
away — Haxon,  I  should  say.  And  there  was  not 
money  enough  for  both." 

Jardine  could  hardly  control  his  irritation,  the 
revulsion  was  so  great.  He  had  just  been  liber- 
ated from  all  his  fears  and  anxieties  to  find  himself 
suddenly  enmeshed  anew.  It  mattered  little  in- 
deed that  the  foolish,  sordid,  futile  parapher- 
nalia of  the  fair  had  been  removed,  if  the  point 
of  danger  in  divers  interpretations,  the  man  him- 
self, remained.  As  he  stood  by  the  window, 
frowning  down  in  deep  absorption  at  the  floor, 
silent,  forbidding  of  aspect,  cold  and  formal  as 
always,  the  clerk  resumed,  somewhat  at  a  loss. 

"  Lloyd,  too,  seemed  frantic  to  be  off,"  he  said. 
"  He  could  hardly  resign  himself." 

3,01 


The  Windfall 

He  laughed  a  little  at  the  forlorn  plight;  it 
had  to  him  its  ludicrous  suggestions.  "  *  Sent  for, 
but  couldn't  go,'  "  he  quoted  gaily. 

Jardine  made  no  answer;  he  was  reflecting  that 
both  men  had  doubtless  the  best  of  reasons  for  quit- 
ting the  country;  he  hardly  questioned  that  they 
were  amenable  to  the  Federal  law  in  some  measure 
for  conspiring  with  the  distillers  for  the  sale  of 
illicit  liquor,  and  reciprocally  profiting  thereby 
through  the  enterprise  of  the  street  fair.  The  man- 
ager was  obviously  the  responsible  individual,  the 
principal,  and  his  apprehension  would  rebound  with 
all  its  conspicuous  derogations  upon  the  personnel 
of  Jardine's  own  select  party.  Since  one  must  needs 
remain,  it  was  a  thousand  pities  that  that  one  could 
not  have  been  the  innocuous  Captain  Ollory. 

He  did  not  speak,  and  the  clerk  had  an  unpleas- 
ant fear  that  he  had  offended  him,  for  the  sake  of 
a  phrase,  forsooth,  in  the  disparagement  of  the 
most  absolute  stranger,  for  whom  the  duck  in 
reality  did  not  care  a  single  quack.  He  waxed 
suddenly  very  genial  and  confidential,  and  Jar- 
dine,  who  under  other  circumstances  would  have 
resented  the  gossip  as  familiar  and  intrusive,  was 
an  eager  listener — absurdly  enough  he  had  so  much 
at  stake  in  the  personality  of  this  man  Lloyd. 

"  'Twas  as  good  as  a  play,"  the  clerk  laughed, 
"  in  the  office  late  last  night, — a  much  better  play 
than  any  they  bill — when  they  counted  out  the 
money — had  it  in  my  desk.  All  couldn't  get  off. 
Ollory   wanted    to   leave   Wick-Zoo,  too,  but    it 

302 


The  Windfall 

seemed  the  wild  man  had  money  of  his  own.  They 
paid  him  with  a  due  bill,  ha,  ha  !  Ollory  wanted  to 
leave  the  Fat  Lady;  he  said  she  was  too  fat  to  be 
disturbed — I  don't  know  whether  he  meant  men- 
tally or  physically — and  Lloyd — he's  a  funny  fel- 
low!— he  swore  he  wouldn't  mention  such  a  thing; 
she  was  a  high-toned  lady,  if  she  was  a  bit  stout ! 
He  declared  he  never  would  run  off  and  leave  a  part 
of  his  company  stranded,  least  of  all  a  woman, 
and  one,  by  her  infirmity,  helpless  to  shift  for 
herself — he's  not  a  bad  egg,  Mr.  Jardine !  When 
Lloyd  saw  it  must  fall  between  himself  and  Ollory 
— Ollory  had  the  money  in  his  paw;  he  grabbed 
it  as  soon  as  it  was  laid  on  the  counter,  and  to  do 
him  justice  he  counted  out  only  the  transportation 
— and  Lloyd  had  the  bag  to  hold,  he  tried  to  raise 
the  money  for  his  railroad  fare  on  a  personal  valu- 
able that  he's  got.  Told  him  nobody  here  did 
pawn-broking.     Tried  me." 

"  Why  didn't  you  lend  it  to  him?"  exclaimed 
Jardine  suddenly,  seeing  a  way  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty. It  had  never  occurred  to  him  to  pay  the 
man  to  go,  lest  he  implicate  himself  in  he  knew 
not  what — though  money  was  no  object  in  this 
connection.  But  it  was  indeed  grievous  to  per- 
ceive a  means  of  extrication  so  simple,  so  near,  and 
cast  aside. 

"  Didn't  know  how  valuable  valuable  might 
be,"  the  clerk  laughed.  "  Step  in  here,  Mr.  Jar- 
dine.    Show  it  to  you.     Left  in  safe." 

It  was  a  thing  of  which  Mr.  Jardine  would 
3^3 


The  Windfall 

never  have  believed  himself  capable  as  he  stepped 
through  the  window  and  addressed  himself  to  ap- 
praise a  valuable  which  an  unknown  man  had  left 
in  the  custody  of  an  hotel  safe.  But  he  made  up 
his  mind,  however  worthless  the  trinket  might  be, 
to  advance  to  the  clerk  the  necessary  sum,  to  be 
loaned  through  him,  without  mention  of  the  source 
whence  it  came.  Anything  to  be  rid  of  the  incubus 
of  the  showman! 

His  face  changed  as  the  clerk  touched  the 
spring  of  a  small  leather  case.  There,  reposing 
on  a  bed  of  faint  blue  Genoa  velvet,  so  faded  as 
to  be  near  green,  was  a  ring  set  with  a  large  pig- 
eon's blood  ruby;  a  row  of  very  white  diamonds 
was  encrusted  into  the  dull  gold  of  the  setting,  but 
the  red  stone  was  held  up  in  claws,  and  was  visible 
throughout. 

Jardine  had  a  sudden  monition  of  caution. 
These  were  gems  of  price,  doubtless  stolen!  He 
could  not — he  would  not  involve  himself  further 
in  such  a  matter,  whatever  aesthetic  discomforts, 
whatever  mortifying  publicity  incidents  of  far  less 
moment  might  occasion  Miss  Lucia  Laniston. 
Every  throb  of  his  impulse  was  still.  He  was 
once  more  the  cautious  man  of  the  world. 

"  Worth  the  money?"  the  clerk  queried  curi- 
ously. 

"  Worth  forty  times  the  money,"  Jardine  calmly 
responded.  If  the  Avoca  House  should  oblige 
a  guest  by  lending  money  on  good  security  it  would 
rid  him  of  his  dilemma,  and  affect  him  no  further. 

3°4 


The  Windfall 

But  beyond  this  he  promised  himself  he  would  not 
be  urged  by  his  adoring,  worshipful  reverence  for 
the  pellucid  aloofness  and  unapproachableness  be- 
fitting a  young  girl,  that  lent  her  the  dignity  and 
remote  charm  of  a  star.  There  were  sordid  mat- 
ters to  consider  in  this  world,  and  the  responsibility 
of  trafficking  with  stolen  goods  was  one  of  them. 

"  But  look  here;  these  rubies  are  sometimes 
what  you  call  doublets,  ain't  they?  Just  a  sort  of 
veneer  of  the  real  thing  over  glass." 

"  This  is  no  doublet,"  said  Jardine,  taking  the 
gem  into  his  hand.  "  This  is  a  genuine  and  very 
perfect  stone  of  a  very  rare  type — the  pigeon's 
blood  ruby." 

As  he  looked  at  it  he  was  impressed  with  the 
antique  aspect  of  the  ring;  the  setting  was  in 
gold  of  several  different  tints — green,  red,  yellow 
in  two  shades.  He  had  not  given  much  attention 
to  ornaments  of  this  order,  but  he  knew  that  this 
method  of  setting  was  antiquated,  not  to  say  an- 
tique. He  thought  of  the  incongruity  with  the 
sordid  little  show — the  high  dive,  Wick-Zoo,  the 
Ferris  Wheel.  More  than  ever  the  conviction  that 
the  gem  was  stolen  took  possession  of  him.  He 
suffered  suddenly  a  qualm  of  conscience.  He  felt 
that  the  clerk  was  of  limited  experience  and  needed 
a  warning.  He  ought  not  to  be  suffered  unneces- 
sarily to  lose  his  money  and  involve  himself. 

"  It  is  so  fine,  so  rare,  and  so  valuable  that 
I  am  very  sure  it  must  be  stolen.  I  don't  say  by 
whom,  or  when." 


The  Windfall 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Jardine,"  said  the  clerk,  quite  self- 
sufficient.  His  cheek  reddened.  He  was  blushing 
for  the  imputation.  "  Don't  you  think  you  are 
quite  a  little  too  suspicious?  " 

"  Perhaps — perhaps !  At  all  events  you  are 
warned,"  said  Mr.  Jardine,  as  he  walked  past  the 
safe,  around  the  desk,  and  out  of  the  office  by  the 
door,  rather  than  informally  through  the  window 
as  he  had  entered. 

|  The  clerk  looked  after  him  with  no  very  friendly 
eyes,  then  he  snapped  the  old  ring  in  its  dingy 
leather  case,  and  locked  it  in  the  safe  with  Mr. 
Jardine's  careful  warnings.  The  value  of  the 
jewels  ascertained  he  was  prepared  to  lend  the 
amount  of  transportation  upon  it;  should  he  not 
be  repaid  he  would  profit  enormously,  and  he  was 
altogether  willing  to  take  the  risk  that  however  in 
the  vicissitudes  of  his  life  the  showman  had  come 
by  the  ring  it  was  honestly  owned. 

Before  the  hack  started  for  New  Helvetia — it 
was  indeed  standing  in  front  of  the  door — Frank 
came  fuming  up  into  his  mother's  room,  where 
she,  his  sister,  and  his  cousin  were  putting  on  their 
hats,  preparatory  to  the  journey.  The  young  girls 
were  fresh  and  bright  again  in  their  white  dresses, 
which  had,  indeed,  been  sent  to  the  laundry  to 
be  pressed  and  now  showed  as  unwrinkled  and 
perfect  as  if  the  stiff  linen  skirts  and  dainty  little 
embroidered  jackets  were  donned  for  the  first  time. 
The  embroidered  frills  of  their  lingerie  hats 
shaded,  yet  did  not  shadow,  their  fair  faces,  which 

306 


\The  Windfall 

showed  no  trace  of  the  fatigue  and  excitements  of 
yesterday,  save  that  Lucia  seemed  a  bit  pale,  and 
her  eyes  were  larger  and  more  appealing  than 
usual.  They  were  putting  on  their  long  silk  gloves, 
now  and  then  turning  to  eye  each  other  from  head 
to  foot,  for  they  entertained  an  enthusiastic  mutual 
admiration,  and  were  wont  to  point  out  a  hair 
awry,  or  a  line  out  of  plumb  with  a  serious  re- 
buke, as  of  sacrilege. 

Mrs.  Laniston  was  not  ill-pleased  to  be  getting 
back  to  New  Helvetia,  but  she  regarded  the  out- 
ing as  a  highly  successful  break  to  the  monotony. 
She  could  not  enter  into  Mr.  Jardine's  sentiments 
in  reference  to  the  little  fair;  she  had  noticed  his 
impatience  with  its  grotesqueness  and  shortcom- 
ings, and  in  the  privacy  of  the  domestic  circle  had 
commented  adversely.  Did  he  think  it  was  the 
Paris  Exposition?  she  had  demanded  sarcastically 
of  her  daughter  and  niece.  There  is  a  sort  of 
leniency  of  judgment  peculiarly  becoming  to  the 
highly  bred  and  highly  placed.  Mrs.  Laniston 
realised,  for  example,  that  the  little  village  hotel 
was  not  the  finest  type  of  house  of  entertainment 
in  all  the  world,  but  one  was  fairly  comfortable 
there,  and  she  seemed  courteously  unaware  that 
there  was  aught  better  or  more  pretentious  in  New 
York  or  London,  so  long  as  she  was  under  its 
hospitable  roof.  To  be  easily  entertained  with 
the  best  attainable  was  an  instinct  with  her,  and 
when  Frank,  his  boyish  face  red  and  his  scanty 
frown   drawn    above   vexed    and    troubled    eyes, 

397, 


The  Windfall 

paused  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  complaining, 
"  I  do  declare,  that  fellow  Jardine  bullyrags  the 
life  out  of  me,"  she  was  predisposed  to  be  her 
son's  partisan,  and  to  discriminate  against  some 
ultra-fastidious  prejudice  of  Mr.  Jardine's  of  the 
sort  which,  if  regarded,  would  already  have  de- 
stroyed every  vestige  of  pleasure  which  the  hum- 
ble little  outing  could  afford.  She  whirled  half 
around  from  the  bureau,  where  she  was  standing 
before  the  mirror  putting  on  her  wide  black  hat, 
holding  it  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other 
she  thrust  a  hat  pin  tentatively  back  and  forth 
through  the  structure,  seeking  to  find  a  steady  grip 
in  her  masses  of  grey-blond  hair. 

"  In  the  name  of  pity!  "  she  ejaculated,  gazing 
inquiringly  at  him. 

"  Ye-es,"  he  whined,  "  anybody  would  think  I 
was  born  yesterday,  and  couldn't  find  my  way  to 
the  hall  door  there." 

11  Well,  what  is  it  now?  "  she  asked  impatiently, 
with  another  thrust  of  the  hat  pin  forceful  enough 
to  seem  to  the  uninitiated  very  dangerous. 

"  Well,"  he  pushed  both  hands  far  down  in 
his  pockets  and  took  an  aimless  step  to  and  fro, 
his  red  face  overcast  and  crestfallen  with  the 
sense  of  being  thought  a  fool,  and  such  a  realisa- 
tion of  his  own  immaturity  as  prevented  the  re- 
couping satisfaction  of  a  full  faith  in  himself.  "  I 
found  that  that  fellow  Lloyd  would  be  here  a  little 
while  waiting  for  remittances — it  seems  the  whole 
show  came  very  near  being  stranded,  and,  like  the 

308, 


The  Windfall 

captain  of  a  sinking  ship,  he  is  the  last  to  leave. 
Well,  it  seemed  no  great  absurdity  to  me,  as  he  is 
a  first-class,  all-round  professional  athlete,  such  as 

I  am  not  likely  to  meet  again  in  a  hurry,  to  ask 
him  to  give  me  a  few  lessons  in  boxing.  I'm  bound 
to  have  exercise,  and  a  punchbag  is  such  a  lone- 
some fool !  " 

Mrs.  Laniston  evidently  did  not  see  the  point 
as  yet.  The  hat  adjusted  at  last,  she  began  to 
pull  on  her  black  silk  gloves  over  her  rather 
bony  jewelled  fingers,  gazing  the  while  into  the 
mirror,  to  which  reflection  he  addressed  his  appeal. 

"  Do  you  see  anything  extraordinary  in  that 
project?  " 

"  Except  the  expense  of  coming  from  and  going 
to  New  Helvetia,"  she  replied  a  little  wonderingly. 

II  I  always  did  think  the  monopoly  of  that  hack 
line  ought  to  be  put  down.  The  charges  are  ex- 
tortionate— it  is  practically  impossible  to  go  back 
and  forth  as  one  might  like  to  do  in  excursions 
about  the  country  if  rates  were  reasonable." 

"  Why,  that  is  what  I  told  the  fellow — that  I 
could  better  afford  the  price  of  the  lessons  if  he 
were  waiting  at  New  Helvetia,  instead  of  here  in 
Colbury." 

"And  then?"  Mrs.  Laniston  was  very  dense; 
she  did  not  yet  perceive  the  point. 

"  Then  Lloyd  inquired  as  to  the  hotel  rates  at 
New  Helvetia,  and  when  he  found  they  were  lower 
at  this  season  than  the  charges  for  transient  guests 
at  this  place  he  said  that  he  had  no  objection  to 

309 


\The  Windfall 

going  to  New  Helvetia — that  it  would  be  a  change 
for  him,  and  that  he  was  fed  up  with  Colbury." 

"  See  here,  Frank,  you  are  developing  a  gift  for 
oratory.  Why  don't  you  come  to  the  point,  if 
there  is  any  point?"  Mrs.  Laniston,  who  herself 
could  hold  forth  so  volubly  and  with  such  a  flow 
of  well-considered  words,  admonished  him. 

11  Why,  it  seemed  such  an  advantageous  ar- 
rangement; he  said,  first  off,  that  he  could  give 
much  better  value  for  the  money.  He  could  coach 
me,  too,  for  the  track  team — it  seems  he  was  once 
a  short-distance  sprinter — free  of  charge.  He 
said  we  could  just  run  up  and  down  the  roads 
for  fun,  if  they  were  as  good  as  I  said.  And  then 
we  could  have  a  few  bouts  with  the  foils,  once  in 
a  while — he  took  a  prize  for  fencing  once  in  an 
athletic  contest — showed  me  the  medal.  And  I'm 
getting  so  fat!"  Frank's  voice  rose  to  a  dreary 
plaint.  "  I  was  perfectly  scandalised  this  morning 
when  I  stepped  on  the  public  scales  on  the  other 
side  of  the  square " 

"  We  understand,"  murmured  Ruth.  "  Where 
they  weigh  the  other  prize  calves." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  little  grin  of  apprecia- 
tion, but,  absorbed  in  the  subject,  went  on  without 
retort.  "  I  shall  be  ruled  out  of  every  athletic  event 
at  college  this  year.  Whereas,  if  I  train  down,  and 
have  this  splendid  coach  to  get  me  fit  I  may  be 
able  to  take  my  place  on  the  gridiron  just  as  if 
I  hadn't  been  away;  it's  only  a  substitute  playing 
with  the  Eleven  now." 

310 


The  Windfall 

Mrs.  Laniston's  mind  quickly  reviewed  the  sit- 
uation. So  long  as  athletics  did  not  interfere  with 
scholastic  grading,  her  husband  and  she  had  agreed 
that  they  were  to  be  encouraged.  Frank  had 
neither  the  tastes  nor  the  application  of  a  student, 
but  he  possessed  a  good  mind,  and  a  very  sound 
conscience.  Since  his  parents  desired  he  should 
have  a  collegiate  education,  and  take  a  degree,  he 
read  with  great  diligence,  and  they  sugar-coated 
the  pill  by  endorsing  the  college  athletics,  and  giv- 
ing him  all  the  outdoor  sport  that  was  craved  by 
his  physique,  abounding  in  vitality  and  vigour.  It 
was  a  compact  in  some  sort,  unacknowledged,  but 
very  definitely  appreciated,  that  he  should  grind 
and  toil,  and  assimilate  a  thousand  ideas  for  which, 
so  far,  he  had  neither  use  nor  liking,  and  pass 
his  examinations  creditably,  and  that  he  should  be 
unmolested  to  play  as  he  would. 

"Yes;  it  seems  an  excellent  arrangement  for 
the  purpose.  Mr.  Jardine  is  a  man  of  very  judi- 
cious conclusions,  but  I  can't  imagine  his  objections 
in  this  instance." 

"Simply  threw  a  fit!  I  told  him  that  Lloyd 
and  I  had  signed  up  a  little  contract,  for  I  want 
only  to  promise  to  pay  for  the  boxing  lessons.  I 
couldn't,  out  of  my  allowance,  undertake  to  pay 
for  all  that  fellow  could  teach  me — he  could  teach 
me  something  of  value  for  every  wink  of  my  eye- 
lids. And  Lloyd  chimed  in,  too,  and  said  it  was 
best  to  have  it  understood,  for  we  would  probably 
be  lonesome,  and  spend  the  time  playing — with 

31* 


The  Windfall 

Indian  clubs,  and  dumb-bells,  and  wrestling — and 
we  had  better  set  down  what  was  to  be  work,  and 
what  was  to  be  pastime." 

"Come  to  the  point,  Frank!  You  are  long- 
winded  !  "  his  mother  admonished  him.  She  had 
sunk  into  a  chair,  and,  as  the  two  girls  were  ranged 
side  by  side  on  the  sofa,  he  stood  before  the 
family  in  the  guise  of  a  domestic  orator,  and  made 
a  desperate  bolt  at  the  main  statement  of  his 
disclosure. 

"  Threw  a  fit!  Adjured  me  not  to  compromise 
the  dignity  of  the  family!  " 

There  was  a  feminine  chorus  of  exclama- 
tions. 

"  Crazy,  ain't  he?  "  said  Frank.  "  I  told  him 
a  few  lessons  in  boxing  couldn't  compromise  the 
dignity  of  any  family  that  had  any  dignity.  He 
said  I  perversely  misunderstood  him.  For  a  fact 
he  did.  Said  it  was  the  person  he  objected  to. 
Emphasised  person  as  if  he  would  like  Lloyd 
better  if  he  went  on  four  feet,  like  Wick-Zoo,  once 
in  a  while.  I  asked  him  what  was  the  matter  with 
Lloyd.  Said  that  on  account  of  my  folly  he  had 
had  an  opportunity  to  ride  with  Miss  Laniston  in 
the  Wheel." 

"  Well,  upon  my  word!  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lanis- 
ton. 

And  the  two  young  ladies  grew  breathless  and 
round-eyed. 

"  It  was  his  own  fault — he  should  have  called  off 
the  event;  he  could  have  said  that  he  was  waiting 

312 


The  Windfall 

for  me;  his  party  was  not  complete.  I  did  not 
dare  suggest  this,  though.  I  declare  I  have  had 
to  eat  enough  humble-pie  this  morning  to  destroy 
my  appetite  forever."  And  Frank  drew  out  his 
handkerchief,  and,  with  a  long-suffering  air, 
mopped  his  shining,  roseate,  fresh  face. 

"  I  think  it  was  very  ill-judged  in  Mr.  Jardine 
to  bring  the  mention  of  Miss  Laniston  into  the 
matter,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston,  her  delicate  features 
flushing  with  irritation. 

"  In  my  humble  mind  that  was  the  only  impro- 
priety committed,"  said  Frank.  "  But  of  course 
on  account  of  my  youth,  and  being  a  sort  of  stand- 
ard fool,  I  did  not  dare  to  say  so.  But  I  did  pluck 
up  enough  to  state  that  we  could  not  consider 
Lloyd's  riding  in  the  Wheel  with  Miss  Laniston 
in  any  sense  except  as  a  convenience  to  her,  to 
weight  the  machine,  and  we  could  not  base  any 
action  on  any  other  hypothesis." 

"  You  were  very  right,"  said  his  mother  heart- 
ily, and  Frank,  encouraged  by  this  infrequent  and 
unexpected  approval,  took  heart  of  grace  to  con- 
tinue, fetched  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  and  once  more 
mopped  his  face  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  I  said  to  Jardine  that  there  had  been  no  pre- 
sumption whatever  in  the  man's  conduct,  and  that 
the  suggestion  was  offensive  to  us." 

"  Very  well,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston.  She 
was  thinking  that  Frank,  after  all,  was  not  so 
incompetent  as  a  squire  of  dames,  and  was  realising 
how  the  contortion  of  the  circumstances  in  Jar- 

3l3 


The  Windfall 

dine's  mind  would  affect  George  Laniston,  should 
he  hear  that  version. 

"  But  you  won't  believe  that  he  wouldn't  accept 
the  situation.  He  called  me  a  boy,  and  of  course 
I  had  to  submit  to  that.  He  said  the  showman 
had  noticed  our  family  at  table — he  had  been  of- 
fended to  observe  it.  As  if,  in  this  free  and  en- 
lightened country,  people  should  fall  on  their  faces, 
with  their  faces  in  the  dust  at  our  august  approach. 
I  reminded  him  that  the  bullet-eyed  man  stared 
at  us,  and  that  it  was  me  who  stared  at  the  man- 
ager, who  is  liable*  to  that  sort  of  thing,  for  he 
has  got  the  face  of  a  god  or  an  archangel — told 
me,  when  I  asked  him  where  was  his  photograph 
in  the  show  collection,  that  he  had  promised  Duroc, 
the  painter,  not  to  be  taken  till  his  great  picture, 
1  The  Last  Day,'  is  finished.  Lloyd  is  the  model 
for  the  angel  Gabriel  in  that,  and  he  says  it's 
great,  though  he  thinks  the  horn  makes  him  look 
like  a  translated  spieler." 

"  But  about  Mr.  Jardine " 

"  Mamma,  I  think  I  am  the  most  put-upon 
fellow  that  ever  lived.  That  great  Jay  stopped 
Lloyd  as  he  passed  and  told  him  that  I  was  a 
minor,  and  incapable  of  making  a  contract — in  my 
presence,  mind  you;  in  my  presence!" 

"  Why,  Frank !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Laniston, 
amazed  and  offended. 

"  Oh,  he  did  it  in  a  sort  of  innocuous  way — 
he's  very  crafty;  said  I'd  been  telling  him  about 
the  arrangement,  and  then,  as  if  jocularly  remind- 

314 


The  Windfall 

ing  me  of  a  disability,  said  that  I  was  a  minor, 
and  the  contract  invalid.  He  slicked  it  over  and 
smoothed  it  down.  I  think  he  could  smooth  down 
the  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  if  he  should  try  his 
hand  on  them." 

"And  what  did  Mr.  Lloyd  say?"  asked  Mrs. 
Laniston,   very  seriously  annoyed  and  indignant. 

"  Really,  he  seemed  the  best-bred  man  of  the 
two.  He  said  he  would  consider  my  word  as  good 
as  my  bond — the  contract  was  merely  a  memoran- 
dum, as  between  us  two,  determining  what  exer- 
cises should  be  considered  business  and  be  paid  for, 
the  rest  being  merely  amusement  and  voluntary. 
He  passed  it  off  easily,  but  I  felt  extremely  out  of 


countenance." 


"  I  must  say  Mr.  Jardine  takes  a  good  deal  on 
himself,"  Mrs.  Laniston  said,  holding  her  head 
very  high,  the  colour  mantling  her  cheek,  "  and 
his  standpoint  is  very  unreasonable.  That  you 
should  not  hire  the  services  of  an  athletic  coach, 
because  he  took  a  vacant  place  beside  Miss  Lanis- 
ton, in  order  to  weight  the  machine  and  make  it 
safe,  there  being  no  one  else  for  the  purpose  in  the 
party,  he  being  the  manager  and  owner  of  the 
apparatus,  is  more  than  preposterous.  We  must 
take  no  notice  of  Mr.  Jardine's  assumptions  that 
there  was  anything  derogatory  in  the  matter.  We 
will  treat  the  man  like  any  other  stranger.  And 
now  let  us  get  back  to  New  Helvetia  where,  thank 
a  merciful  providence,  there  is  somebody  besides 
the  wearisome  Mr.  Jardine!  " 

3,15 


The  Windfall 

The  approach  to  New  Helvetia  ushered  Lloyd 
into  a  new  experience,  despite  his  wide  wanderings 
in  many  ways.  The  trails  he  had  followed  had  not 
sought  seclusion;  a  full  population,  showward  bent, 
was  the  desideratum  of  his  journey's  goal  hith- 
erto. He  had  scarcely  realised  that  there  was  so 
lonely  a  region  on  the  face  of  the  earth  as  the 
dense  and  gigantic  forests  through  which  the 
smooth,  hard,  red  clay  road  led.  The  scarlet  oak, 
the  sumach,  and  the  sourwood  on  exposed  slopes 
to  the  north  had  turned  red,  and  flaunted  gor- 
geously against  the  blue  sky.  The  foliage  of  hick- 
ory now  and  again  appeared  at  sudden  turns,  a  clear 
translucent  yellow  from  trunk  to  topmost  twig. 
Here  and  there  great  grey  crags  showed  through 
boughs  still  green  and  lush,  that  yet  held  the  sum- 
mer captive,  loath  to  let  it  go.  There  was  a 
stream  that  kept  the  road  company,  as  if  apart 
they  might  be  affrighted  in  the  vast  unbroken  wil- 
dernesses, and  now  it  showed  a  miniature  cataract, 
clear  as  crystal,  fringed  with  foam,  leaping  down 
great  broken  ledges;  and  now  it  brawled,  widening 
into  marshy  tangles  by  the  wayside;  and  now 
it  ran  over  rocks,  and  flashed  and  frothed  like 
rapids;  and  now  it  showed  stretches  of  smooth 
golden  flow  above  a  bed  of  gravel,  with  here  and 
there  the  sudden  silver  glinting  of  a  water-break. 
He  watched  it  with  a  sort  of  fascinated  revery, 
unconsciously  marking  its  moods  and  garnering  its 
spirit.  Occasionally  a  gap  in  the  woods  showed 
the  mountains,  vast,  endless,  austere,  dominating 

316 


The  Windfall 

all  the  world,  and  he  appreciated  that  the  road 
was  continuously  rising  by  gentle  degrees  to  higher 
and  higher  levels.  The  horses  were  fleet  and 
strong;  the  roads  only  fairly  good,  for  in  some 
localities  the  rain  had  converted  the  red  clay  into 
mud  of  a  most  tenacious  character;  elsewhere  the 
downpour  had  come  with  such  force  as  to  beat 
the  ground  hard.  Here  they  bowled  swiftly;  the 
driver,  evidently,  had  a  monition  toward  atoning 
for  the  interval  when  they  toiled  and  bogged 
through  the  sloughs.  There  had  been  a  delay  at 
the  last  moment;  a  new  passenger  presented  him- 
self who  could  not  be  ready  to  start  till  one  o'clock, 
and,  though  Mr.  Jardine  had  protested  that  he 
had  chartered  the  hack, — in  the  phrase  of  the 
region, — the  driver  declared  that  the  orders  of  the 
line  required  him  to  take  up  all  the  custom  he 
could  gather  before  it  was  necessary  to  leave  town 
in  order  to  make  the  run  before  dark.  The  episode 
had  greatly  irritated  Jardine,  but  he  found  a  cer- 
tain consolation  in  the  fact  that  the  presence  of 
this  representative  of  the  general  public,  so  to 
speak,  exerted  a  repressive  influence  on  the  ex- 
uberance of  the  two  young  ladies.  The  incidents 
that  had  marked  the  trip  down  were  not  repeated 
— the  pauses  to  alight  and  gather  wild  flowers; 
the  shrieks  of  delight  over  some  lovely  vista  of 
the  stream  and  protestations  how  dear  it  would  be 
to  wade  in  the  shallow  crystal  flood,  floored  with 
golden  gravel  and  great  solid  ledges  of  moss- 
grown  rock;  the  determination  which  could  not  be 

317 


The  Windfall 

gainsaid  to  visit  the  shaft  of  a  mine,  worked  for 
silver,  in  a  primitive  way,  hard  by,  where  a  wind- 
lass was  in  operation.  Lucia  unexpectedly  stepped 
into  the  swaying  bucket  above  the  abyss  of  ninety 
feet,  holding  her  skirts  tight  about  her,  and  or- 
dered the  men  to  lower  her,  that  she  might  look 
into  the  intersecting  tunnel.  "  I'll  bring  you  luck," 
she  declared.     "  I'm  a  mascot!  " 

"  Shure  I  niver  knew  till  to-day,  leddy,  that 
anny  o'  the  fairies  had  emigrated  from  Oirland, 
their  native  land,"  said  an  old  Irishman,  as  she 
alighted  from  the  bucket,  relinquishing,  with  pre- 
tended reluctance,  the  descent  which  her  aunt  with 
some  precipitancy  forbade;  the  compliment  in  a 
rich  brogue,  and  the  flattering  twinkle  of  the  eye 
had  set  Jardine  wild,  but  Mrs.  Laniston  had 
laughed  pleasantly,  and  had  descanted  elaborately, 
after  they  were  in  the  stage  once  more,  on  the 
national  gift  of  blended  blarney  and  poesy  that 
tips  the  tongue  of  an  Irishman,  of  whatever  de- 
gree, wherever  found. 

Now  all  was  changed.  Strangers  were  fellow- 
travellers.  Placed  with  Mrs.  Laniston  on  the 
back  seat  of  the  "  hack,"  the  young  ladies  had  re- 
lapsed into  the  inexpressive,  sedate  demeanour 
which  they  assumed  so  easily  when  subjected  to  the 
gaze  of  the  outside  world.  It  might  have  been 
different,  thought  Jardine,  if  only  Lloyd — who  had 
unluckily  acquired  a  quasi  acquaintance — had  been 
added  to  the  family  party. 

The  person  who  thus  reconciled  Mr.  Jardine  to 

318 


The  Windfall 

the  fact  of  his  creation  and  appearance  on  this 
occasion  was  himself  disposed  to  take  little  note 
of  the  personnel  and  conditions  of  his  environment. 
He  was  a  tall,  portly  man,  with  a  strong,  hand- 
some, rather  round,  face,  a  florid  complexion,  and 
round,  somewhat  staring,  eyes;  middle-aged, 
soberly  dressed,  and  extremely  reticent.  Beyond 
an  undeveloped  feint  of  a  bow  to  the  assemblage  in 
the  hack  when  he  entered  the  vehicle,  he  accorded 
none  of  them  a  moment's  notice.  He  had  the 
front  seat  beside  the  driver;  each  of  the  other  two 
seats  held  three  passengers,  Jardine  being  be- 
tween Lloyd  and  Laniston,  and  controlling  the 
very  scanty  conversation,  taking  the  word  when- 
ever an  observation  was  ventured  by  either.  This 
line  of  tactics  greatly  nettled  Frank,  who,  being  un- 
able to  appropriately  return  it  in  kind,  relapsed  into 
a  marked  silence.  Lloyd  was  apparently  not  aware 
of  its  significance,  for  he  responded  pleasantly, 
though  monosyllabically,  but  indeed  Jardine  per- 
mitted nothing  more. 

When  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
however,  and  the  driver  paused  to  breathe  the 
horses,  the  men  alighting  to  lessen  the  burden  for 
the  steep  ascent,  the  stranger,  who  had  presum- 
ably been  profiting  by  the  platitudes  with  which 
Mr.  Jardine  had  beguiled  the  journey,  did  not 
select  his  company  as  solace  in  the  long,  stiff  tramp. 
On  the  contrary  he  attached  himself  to  Lloyd,  and 
together  they  were  soon  well  in  advance  of  the 
straining  team,  while  Frank  and  Jardine  walked 

319 


The  Windfall 

on  either  side  of  the  vehicle  and  talked  to  the 
ladies  over  the  high  wheels.  Here,  out  of  sight 
and  beyond  the  participation  of  the  mere  outsiders, 
Mr.  Jardine  was  pleased  to  unbend,  and  be  most 
affable  and  entertaining,  for  he  did  not  include  in 
the  scheme  of  creation  such  objects  as  the  driver 
— the  mere  furniture  of  life — a  stalwart  young 
mountaineer,  walking  nimbly  beside  his  team,  hold- 
ing the  reins  in  his  hand,  and  calling  out  admoni- 
tions and  encouragements.  As  he  could  not,  a-foot, 
use  the  brake  Frank  found  occupation  and  utility 
in  "  scotching  "  the  wheels  with  a  big  stone,  or 
locking  them  with  the  chain,  generally  used  to  im- 
pede a  too  rapid  descent,  whenever  the  team  was 
halted  on  the  steep  acclivity  for  a  few  minutes  of 
breathing  space. 

Lucia,  with  her  quick  faculties,  was  well-fitted 
for  a  duplicate  mental  process.  She  smiled  ap- 
propriately when  Jardine  made  his  neat  little 
points  of  mirth,  or  nodded  serious  acquiescence, 
when  his  remarks  seemed  of  weight.  In  reality 
she  gave  him  only  the  most  superficial  attention, 
barely  enough  to  discern  the  trend  of  his  talk. 
Her  interest  was  concentrated  on  the  two  pedes- 
trians ahead,  and  once  more  she  wondered  how 
the  showman  should  look  such  a  gentleman.  The 
road  curved  and  doubled  in  innumerable  turns  to 
evade  slants  impossible  to  the  straining  horses. 
Looking  upward  one  could  see  it  here  and  there 
in  the  breaks  of  the  thinning  foliage,  suggesting 
unwound  coils  of  brown  ribbon.     The  wind  came 

320 


The  Windfall 

fresh  and  free,  laden  with  the  sweet  dank  odours 
of  the  fallen  leaves,  the  exquisite  freshness  of  the 
mountain  heights,  and  all  the  bouquet  and  tang 
of  the  wayside  herbage.  It  brought  the  words  of 
the  two  pedestrians,  now  passing  them  on  a  higher 
level,  and  visible  above  a  mass  of  broken  rock. 

"  Late  in  the  season  to  visit  the  mountain  re- 
sorts, "  the  elder  man  observed. 

"  They  are  usually  closed  by  this  time,"  Lloyd 
politely  responded. 

"  I  suppose  the  yellow  fever  in  the  South  de- 
tains their  patrons." 

Then  they  both  trudged  silently  on. 

The  horses  were  once  more  urged  forward; 
in  their  improved  speed  Jardine  and  Frank  both 
fell  behind.  The  driver,  who  had  no  possibility  of 
comprehending  the  many  finical  delicacies  which 
racked  Mr.  Jardine's  prepossessions,  kept  up  the 
pace  till  he  had  passed  the  two  passengers  on 
ahead,  and  when  next  he  paused  in  the  shade  to 
rest,  the  stanch  team,  sweating  at  every  pore,  they 
presently  overtook  in  turn  the  stationary  vehicle, 
and  stoutly  marched  past,  without  a  word  or  glance 
for  the  occupants. 

"  Fine  water  at  these  springs?  "  suggested  the 
stranger. 

"  So  I  hear,  but  I  am  new  to  the  place — never 
was  here  before,"  Lloyd  replied. 

His  fine  figure  was  especially  marked,  the  per- 
fection of  strength  and  symmetry,  as  he  went 
swinging    past,    his    hands    in    the    pockets    of 

321 


The  Windfall 

his  light  fawn-tinted  suit,  his  hat  tipped  slightly 
over  his  eyes,  a  spray  of  the  jewel-weed,  which  he 
had  caught  up  by  the  wayside,  in  his  buttonhole, 
keeping  step  with  his  portly  companion,  who  was 
content  to  pound  over  the  ground  anyhow,  re- 
gardless of  grace,  as  a  man  of  his  weight  must 
needs  be. 

Jardine,  all  blown,  and  panting,  and  eager  from 
his  hasty  pull  after  the  hack — he  and  Frank  had 
sought  to  shorten  the  distance  by  a  cross-cut 
through  from  one  curve  to  another,  and  hindered 
by  brambles  and  obstructed  by  boulders,  had  found 
it  hard  travelling — had  noticed,  too,  the  figures 
on  ahead,  and  had  heard  the  words  as  the  wind 
wafted  to  him  the  casual  talk.  He  had  taken  off 
his  hat,  and  was  wiping  the  traces  of  his  exertion 
from  his  brow  with  his  fine  white  cambric  hand- 
kerchief. 

From  time  to  time  the  elder  stranger  fixed  the 
eyes  of  a  very  close  and  keen  observation  on  his 
companion.  He  was  evidently  interested,  even 
inquisitive. 

"  You  hardly  look  as  if  you  need  the  waters  for 
your  health,  sir,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  particularly  fit,  just  now,"  said  Lloyd. 
But  he  made  no  advances  to  gratify  the  curiosity 
of  his  new  acquaintance.  His  reserve  struck  Jar- 
dine  with  a  peculiarly  sinister  suggestion.  Did 
the  showman  fear  this  stranger,  and  why?  He 
remembered  his  own  conclusion,  that  the  street 
carnival  had  been  involved  in  the  sale  of  the  moon- 

322 


The  Windfall 

shine  whisky  and  that  the  manager  as  representa- 
tive was  personally  liable.  A  new  fear  fell  upon 
him  like  a  thunderbolt.  This  stranger  was  doubt- 
less a  detective,  an  emissary  of  the  revenue  depart- 
ment, who  was  tracking  and  shadowing  this  man 
till  he  had  grounds  sufficient  for  the  arrest.  And 
Frank  Laniston — the  callow  fool! — had  brought 
upon  him,  upon  his  own  family  so  ill-flavoured 
and  derogatory  an  association.  Nothing  had  su- 
pervened like  this — the  detective  might  arrest  the 
creature  at  any  moment,  and  had  the  authority  to 
call  on  him,  and  Laniston,  and  the  driver  as  a 
posse  comitatns  to  assist  him  in  apprehending  and 
securing  his  prisoner.  What  else  could  bring  a 
man  of  this  type  here,  at  this  season,  an  evident 
stranger  to  the  locality,  when  the  sojourners  of  the 
Spa  had  flitted  home,  and  business  was  booming 
in  the  cities,  and  only  a  few  old  habitues  of  the 
place,  a  mere  handful,  lingered,  extending  the 
summer,  to  avoid  the  yellow  fever  in  the  South. 

As  these  thoughts  surged  through  Jardine's 
mind  he  followed  the  vehicle  with  so  disordered 
and  exhausted  a  step,  although  he  was  of  a  stanch, 
wiry,  and  tough  physique,  that  Mrs.  Laniston  called 
out  to  him,  inviting  him  to  ride  for  a  while,  saying 
there  was  quite  a  level  stretch  of  road  ahead,  and 
the  additional  weight  would  not  harass  the  horses 
here.  He  so  far  collected  his  faculties  as  to  ex- 
press his  thanks,  and  protest  his  comfortable  state, 
and  then  fell  back  to  contemplate  the  horrible  pos- 
sibility.   Good  God!  what  would  people  say!    In 

323 


The  Windfall 

what  fantastic  guise  would  they  imagine  he  dis- 
posed of  himself,  to  come  into  such  a  plight.  He, 
too,  kept  an  eye  on  the  two  figures  in  advance,  and 
he  gave  strict  heed  to  their  words,  as  in  detached 
fragments  they  floated  back. 

Evidently  Lloyd  thought  a  counter-query  was  in 
order. 

"  They  say  the  waters  have  wonderful  medicinal 
qualities.     Do  you  expect  to  take  them?  " 

"  Me — no,  no,  sir.  No,  indeed.  I  am  here  on 
a  piece  of  business,  important  business.  Out  of 
the  way  place." 

He  seemed  not  only  to  Jardine,  but  to  Lloyd, 
to  cast  a  singularly  sharp  and  wary  eye  upon  the 
figure  at  his  side.  In  fact  he  was  obviously  scan- 
ning the  contour  of  the  showman's  face  for  some 
moments,  when  he  suddenly  said: 

"  If  it  is  not  an  impertinence,  sir,  may  I  ask 
your  motive  in  visiting  New  Helvetia  ?  " 

"  Business,  too,  in  a  way,"  said  Lloyd.  "  I  am 
a  coach  for  that  young  gentleman  beside  the 
hack." 

"  The  classics?"  the  stranger  asked  respect- 
fully. 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no !  "  poor  Lloyd  burst  out  explo- 
sively. "  Excuse  me,  but  I'm  an  athletic  coach. 
He  wants  to  train  down  for  the  gridiron — and  he 
needs  it,  too — going  all  to  fat." 

Once  more  the  long  keen  scrutiny,  from  which 
Lloyd  visibly  winced;  his  cheeks  reddened;  his 
hot,  hunted  eyes  gazed  straight  ahead;    his  step 

3,24 


The  Windfall 

flagged.  Nevertheless  he  held  his  ground  and  kept 
his  self-control. 

"  And  is  this  coaching  your  regular  profes- 
sion? "  the  inquisitive  stranger  persisted. 

"  I  have  no  regular  profession,"  Lloyd  hesi- 
tated. Then,  gathering  his  nerve  with  a  mighty 
effort,  he  boldly  risked  absolute  candour.  "  I  have 
done  many  stunts  in  the  athletic  line.     Performed 

in  circuses  and  shows;  sung  a  little,  too "  with 

a  wry  contortion  of  his  perfectly  chiselled  lips,  for 
he  knew  what  good  music  is,  and  he  loved  it.  "  But 
lately  I  have  been  trying  to  make  some  money  on 
my  own  account.  I  have  been  the  manager  of  a 
street  fair " 

"  Oh,  fool,  fool,  fool !  "  Jardine  apostrophised 
him,  between  set  teeth. 

"  A  good,  clean  show  it  was,"  continued  Lloyd, 
"some  unparalleled  attractions;  finest  high  dive 
I  ever  saw.  But  we  went  to  pieces  here — got 
stranded — and " 

The  wind  carried  away  the  words,  and  as  Jar- 
dine,  still  muttering,  "  Fool — fool,"  looked  up,  he 
saw  the  tall,  portly  figure  stop  short,  lean  forward, 
and  clutch  the  manager  excitedly  by  the  arm.  The 
next  moment  the  foliage  intervened.  Suddenly 
there  rose  on  the  air  Lloyd's  voice,  pitched  high, 
in  wild  agitated  exclamations,  and  the  deep,  steady, 
bass  tones  of  the  stranger.  Then  was  silence,  and 
the  forests  received  them,  and  the  tourists  below 
saw  and  heard  no  more. 


325 


CHAPTER  XV. 

TO  Jardine's  infinite  relief  these  two  of  his 
fellow-travellers  did  not  reappear.  Lloyd 
evidently  had  had  the  grace  not  to  resist 
to  the  extreme  of  coercion,  and  thus  had  spared 
the  ladies,  and  indeed  Mr.  Jardine's  own  delicate 
sensibilities,  the  indignity  of  being  even  remotely 
concerned  in  so  sordid  a  scene.  He  hardly  won- 
dered whither  they  had  gone,  when  the  hack,  with 
Frank  and  himself  once  more  seated  within  with 
the  ladies,  rattled  up  to  the  door  of  the  hotel  at 
the  New  Helvetia  Springs,  for  the  officer  would 
naturally  be  expected  to  hurry  his  prisoner  to  some 
wayside  log  cabin,  and  there  await  transportation 
to  Colbury.  It  would  have  been  a  needless  ex- 
pense, as  well  as  a  gratuitous  affront  to  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  at  New  Helvetia,  to  introduce 
amongst  them  so  offensive  a  personality  as  a  Fed- 
eral prisoner. 

The  wide  piazzas  surrounding  the  hotel  and 
overlooking  a  craggy  precipice  and  a  vast  expanse 
of  mountain  landscape  seemed  spacious,  rather 
than  deserted.  A  group  of  ladies,  mostly  elderly, 
handsomely  gowned,  though  accoutred  with  little 
knitted  shawls,  and  here  and  there  a  "  fascinator," 
against  the  chill,  rare  air  of  the  evening,  sat  in 
rocking-chairs,  surveyed  the  majestic  prospect,  and 

326 


The  Windfall 

talked  of  many  things,  contentedly  awaiting  the 
white  frost  which  should  set  them  free  and  fleeing 
from  the  mountains.  Many  doors,  already  illu- 
mined with  lamplight,  stood  open,  casting  great 
parallelograms  of  golden  radiance  on  the  shadowy 
floor  without.  No  sign  of  the  habitation  of  man, 
not  a  spark  betokening  a  lamp-lit  window  or  a 
glowing  hearth,  showed  in  all  the  stretches  of 
wooded  ranges,  with  dark  and  sombre  valleys  be- 
tween, barely  distinguishable  now,  with  a  river 
here,  and  a  silent  presence  of  mist  there,  and  a 
sense  of  awful  solemnity  and  infinite  loneliness 
brooding  over  all.  Perhaps  the  impressive  and 
austere  aspect  of  nature  without  rendered  the  fire 
of  hickory  logs,  burning  on  the  broad  hearth  of 
the  large  office,  of  so  genial  and  friendly  a  sugges- 
tion. Before  it  a  number  of  great  rocking-chairs 
stood  ranged  in  a  semicircle,  and  here,  too,  sat 
guests,  much  at  their  ease.  It  was  a  coign  of 
vantage  from  which  one  could  observe  all  that 
went  on  in  the  great  deserted  hotel — the  clerk  at 
the  desk  was  on  the  remote  side  of  the  spacious 
apartment  and  the  fireside  group  need  not  be  ham- 
pered by  the  very  inconsiderable  business  that  he 
was  called  upon  to  transact  in  these  dull  days,  out 
of  season.  But  the  main  staircase,  a  large  pre- 
tentious structure  of  double  flights,  was  in  full 
view,  and  everyone  coming  and  going  paused  for 
a  word.  The  two  intersecting  hallways  met  in 
the  office;  the  great  bay  window,  formed  by  the 
ground  floor  of  the  tower,  was  contrived  at  one 

327 


The  Windfall 

corner  of  this  apartment,  and,  overlooking  the 
finest  prospect  to  be  seen  for  many  a  mile,  was  al- 
ways occupied — by  loiterers  at  gaze  in  the  morn- 
ings with  some  trifling  work  of  crochet  or  batten- 
berg,  and  by  a  table  of  bridge  at  night.  A  pleasant 
place,  a  peaceful  haven — and  Jardine  looked  un- 
wontedly  benign  and  condescending  as  he  received 
his  key  at  the  counter  from  the  clerk,  and  re- 
sponded affably  to  that  functionary's  "  Glad  to  see 
you  back,  Mr.  Jardine.'' 

The  hotel  at  New  Helvetia  had  an  effect  of 
palatial  dimensions  in  its  wide,  unpeopled,  vacant 
expanses  in  the  shrunken  state  of  its  patronage. 
The  immense  logs,  flying  long,  broad  pennants  of 
red  and  yellow  flames,  and  supported  by  glittering 
old-fashioned  brass  andirons,  sent  a  rich  illumina- 
tion far  down  the  spaces  of  the  big  dining-room. 
The  glossy  hard-wood  floor  glistening  in  the  sheen 
gave  a  suggestion  of  expense  quite  spurious,  for 
there  was  little  other  timber  available  in  the  build- 
ing of  New  Helvetia.  A  few  round  tables  were 
set  near  the  genial  glow  and  the  high  white-painted 
mantelpiece.  The  other  tables  had  been  removed, 
and  there  was  a  most  comfortable  sense  of  absolute 
monarchical  possession  in  having  such  vast  apart- 
ments at  one's  own  disposal.  There  was  a  perva- 
sive atmosphere  of  privacy,  of  seclusion.  The 
place  was  difficult  of  access,  and  the  usual  touring 
population  had  never  found  it  out.  Year  after 
year  the  same  high-grade  patrons  came  and  went; 
their  fathers,  and  in  some  instances  their  grand- 

328 


The  Windfall 

fathers,  in  days  agone,  had  likewise  flitted  to  and 
fro,  and  drank  the  waters,  and  danced  in  the 
ballroom,  and  flirted  on  the  piazzas,  and  played  at 
the  lawn  sports  and  the  games  of  cards  fashionable 
in  their  time.  There  were  white-haired  couples 
in  the  dining-room  this  evening  who  had  turned 
each  other's  heads,  blonde  or  auburn  then,  on  the 
moon-lit  verandah  there,  or  beside  the  spring  of 
magic  beneficence,  or  strolling  beneath  the  trees 
of  the  grove  that  could  have  shown  many  rings  of 
added  girth  and  many  feet  of  lengthened  growth 
since  those  enchanted  hours. 

It  was  a  decorous,  pleasant  scene,  almost  home- 
like, yet  with  an  agreeable  community  geniality 
and  informality,  as  now  and  again  groups  at  table 
exchanged  comments  with  other  groups  half  across 
the  room.  It  might  well  have  been  a  shock  to  Mr. 
Jardine  strolling  in  to  tea,  freshly  attired,  thankful 
to  be  once  more  in  his  accustomed  niche,  sur- 
rounded by  "  nobility,  and  tranquillity,  burgomas- 
ters, and  great  one-yers,"  even  if  the  sight  had  in- 
volved no  other  associations,  to  perceive  at  one  of 
the  tables,  sitting  in  this  bland  glamour  of  firelight 
and  mellow  lamplight,  and  the  radiance  of  the 
moon  which  poured  in  through  one  of  the  long 
uncurtained  windows,  the  two  strangers,  erst  his 
fellow-travellers,  whom  he  fancied  he  had  quitted 
forever  in  the  ascent  of  the  mountain.  Both  were 
freshly  groomed,  quiet,  and  gentlemanly  of  de- 
meanour, sustaining  without  show  of  consciousness 
the  covert  observation  of  the  other  occupants  of 

329 


The  Windfall 

the  room,  who  were  all  mutually  acquainted,  even 
to  the  earliest  sprout  and  the  latest  twig  of  their 
respective  family  trees.  It  was  naturally  a  point 
of  speculation  what  could  have  brought  these  two 
strangers,  thus  out  of  season,  to  the  remote  resort 
of  the  New  Helvetia  Springs. 

One  glance  at  Lloyd's  face  and  Jardine's  keen 
perceptions  were  satisfied  that  he  had  experienced 
some  great  excitement,  some  nervous  shock,  an 
agitation  from  which  he  had  hardly  yet  recov- 
ered. His  companion's  aspect  was  unchanged, 
placid,  powerful,  but  otherwise  null  of  facial 
expression. 

Jardine  hesitated,  his  hand  still  on  the  knob  of 
the  door.  The  head  waiter  had  briskly  crossed 
the  shining  floor,  with  a  flourish  drew  out  Jar- 
dine's  accustomed  chair  at  a  table  near  the  fire,  and 
stood  blandly  awaiting  his  patron.  Jardine  hardly 
heeded.  He  was  formulating  in  his  mind  such 
an  explanation  of  his  suspicions  as  it  might  be  con- 
sistent with  prudence  to  detail  to  young  Laniston — 
a  warning,  lest  he  continue  even  for  an  evening, 
an  hour,  this  derogatory  association — or  would  it 
not  be  better  to  remonstrate  plainly  with  the  officer 
on  the  indecorum  of  his  course  in  bringing  such 
an  association  upon  respectable,  unsuspicious 
people? 

The  choice  did  not  long  remain  possible  to  him. 
A  side  door  opened  suddenly  and  Frank  Laniston, 
fresh,  roseate,  all  handsomely  bedight,  for  he  was 
of  the  type  that  loves  and  beseems  fine  clothes, 

33° 


The  Windfall 

entered  with  an  elastic  step,  and  a  gay  greeting  as 
he  passed  the  table  of  the  strangers. 

"  Got  here,  eh — all  in  one  piece,  I  see — lost 
you  on  the  road,"  and  then  he  took  his  seat  at  his 
own  table,  bowing  and  smiling  rosily  to  the  greet- 
ings he  encountered,  and,  with  a  half  audible 
sigh  of  pleasant  anticipation,  he  unfolded  his 
napkin. 

"  Fi-i-ne."  He  exclaimed  presently,  in  the  in- 
terval, while  his  order  was  filled,  replying  to  an 
inquiry  from  across  the  fireplace  as  to  the  outing 
to  Colbury. 

Jardine,  once  again  coerced  by  circumstances, 
could  only  traverse  the  room  to  his  waiting  chair, 
and  respond  with  his  usual  sedate  and  appropriate 
urbanity  to  the  questions  as  to  his  enjoyment  of 
the  excursion.  He  kept  a  furtive,  but  stern,  eye 
on  the  strangers,  with  little  result,  save  that  he 
observed  that  the  portly  man  ate  a  somewhat  elabo- 
rate and  well-selected  meal  almost  in  absolute 
silence,  giving  his  whole  attention  to  the  matter  in 
hand.  Lloyd,  on  the  contrary,  ate  little,  and  was 
as  silent.  He  seemed  distrait,  perturbed,  preoc- 
cupied; now  gazing  drearily  into  the  flashing 
flames,  and  once,  for  a  long  interval,  with  lifted 
face  watching  the  beams  from  the  unseen  moon, 
falling  through  the  window,  the  rays  all  differen- 
tiated like  the  fibres  of  a  glittering  skein,  the  more 
distinct  because  of  the  background  of  the  dark 
foliage  of  a  great  oak  without. 

When  a  sudden  alert  attentiveness  usurped  this 
33* 


The  Windfall 

apathy  of  reverie,  Jardine,  too,  looked  up  sharply. 
Lucia  Laniston  was  entering  the  room.  The 
unique  character  of  her  beautiful  face,  the  poetic, 
indescribable  charm  of  her  eyes,  the  high  intelli- 
gence and  nobility  of  sentiment  that  her  presence 
expressed,  despite  her  extreme  youth,  all  seemed 
curiously  independent  of  fashion  and  superior  to 
its  behests.  She  might  have  been  appropriately 
garbed  in  some  severely  simple  and  classic  design, 
apart  from  the  modiste's  creation,  exclusively  her 
own.  But  naught  was  further  from  her  desire — 
naught  could  more  definitely  accord  with  the  pre- 
vailing mode  than  the  costumes  she  affected.  As 
she  came  forward  the  long,  straight  folds  of  her 
chiffon  gown,  worn  over  a  shining  silk  of  the  same 
tint,  accented  her  height  and  her  slenderness;  the 
gauzy  material  was  of  a  sage  green,  embroidered 
here  and  there  with  a  pattern  of  a  Persian  design 
in  terra-cotta,  and  darker  green  and  a  thread  of 
gold;  it  had  sleeves  to  the  elbow,  but  was  cut  low 
and  square  over  a  beautifully  modelled,  but  some- 
what thin,  neck,  and,  in  what  she  called  "  the 
region  of  the  bones,"  was  a  delicate  little  necklace 
of  five  emeralds  placed  at  intervals  on  an  almost 
invisible  chain  whereon  glimmered  here  and  there 
a  very  small  and  very  white  diamond.  Her  soft 
light-brown  hair  was  dressed  high  in  fluffy  puffs, 
and  as  she  paused,  waiting  a  moment  and  glancing 
over  her  shoulder,  her  cousin  Ruth  came  in,  her 
dress  duplicating  this  costume  in  lilac. 

To  Jardine's  consternation,  as  they  took  their 
332 


The  Windfall 

seats,  Lloyd  gravely  and  circumspectly  bowed  to 
both.  After  they  had  ceremoniously  returned  the 
salutation,  Jardine  observed  that  each  cast  a  swift, 
searching  glance  at  Lloyd.  They,  too,  saw  that 
which  had  not  been  in  his  face  before.  Mrs.  Lanis- 
ton  now  joined  the  party,  deceptively  arrayed  in 
what  she  called  her  "  old  black  Chantilly,"  which 
seemed  a  very  fine  lace  dress  as  long  as  its  wear 
and  tear  were  obliterated  by  the  black  satin  be- 
neath, but  a  sorry  sight  it  might  have  been  over 
white  silk,  which  it  had  been  designed  to  cover 
in  its  palmy  days.  It  was  quite  good  enough  for 
New  Helvetia,  out  of  season,  and,  with  the  twinkle 
of  a  diamond  lace-pin,  and  the  flutter  of  a  fan 
of  inlaid  pearl,  not  even  her  nearest  neighbours 
knew  how  they  had  been  cozened  of  a  toilette  of 
distinction.  For  it  was  rather  a  point  at  New 
Helvetia  to  maintain  all  the  flattering  delusions 
of  a  sojourn  of  pleasure  and  free  will,  rather  than 
an  enforced  detention,  and  all  the  formalities  of 
dressing,  and  dancing,  and  playing  tenpins,  and 
cards,  and  tennis  were  continued  as  long  as  the 
covey  of  summer  birds  could  muster  the  numbers 
to  sustain  the  diversion.  Jardine  suddenly  be- 
thought himself  of  this,  and  not  to  be  forestalled 
anew  he  leaned  backward  and  touched  Frank 
Laniston,  as  he  sat  at  the  next  table.  Frank 
turned  instantly,  and  leaned  slightly  to  one  side 
to  hear  the  communication,  made  in  a  very  low 
tone  under  Mrs.  Laniston's  voluble  description  of 
her  experiences  addressed  to  the  occupants  of  the 

333 


The  Windfall 

neighbouring  table  on  the  left — charming  ride — 
somewhat  fatigued — quaint  little  town — enjoyed 
the  fair — how  the  storm  must  have  frightened  you, 
lightning  terrific  at  such  an  altitude — must  have 
been  terrible — glad  to  escape  it 

"  Frank,"  said  Jardine  seriously,  "  for  God's 
sake  let's  have  no  dancing  this  evening,  no 
german " 

Frank's  patience  had  worn  well,  but  it  had  now 
waxed  thin.  He  was  no  longer  tucked  up  under 
Jardine's  arm,  so  to  speak,  and  off  on  their  travels. 
New  Helvetia,  familiar  to  him  since  infancy,  was 
like  home,  and  he  felt  independent.  He  was  not 
"  looking  for  a  row  "  with  anybody,  but,  if  one 
were  forced  upon  him,  there  was  no  longer  an 
obligatory  association — there  was  elbow-room 
here — Jardine  and  he  could  move  apart,  each  go- 
ing his  own  way  without  embarrassment,  or  an 
open  esclandre. 

"  You  needn't  adjure  me,"  he  said  with  spirit. 
"  I  am  too  tired  to  put  one  foot  before  the  other. 
/  don't  want  to  dance." 

"  But  don't  let  the  others "  Jardine  began. 

Frank  Laniston  had  his  own  theories  of  the 
becoming.  He  had  thought  it  well  enough  that 
Jardine,  in  escorting  the  young  ladies  under  cir- 
cumstances so  unusual,  should  have  special  solici- 
tude touching  the  decorous  and  the  appropriate. 
But  he  felt,  if  he  might  venture  to  criticise  anyone 
so  assertively  au  fait,  that  Jardine  was  not  infallible 
in  his  management,  as  the  swing  episode  intimated, 

334 


The  Windfall 

that  he  was  prone  to  magnify  any  awkward  little 
contretemps,  and  by  much  pother  make  something 
out  of  nothing.  A  man  with  feminine  relatives 
is  susceptible  to  a  certain  sensitiveness  in  their  be- 
half, impossible  for  a  man  not  so  connected  to 
appreciate.  In  Mr.  Jardine's  persuasions  concern- 
ing these  matters  of  propriety  he  overlooked  one 
point — that  he,  himself,  committed  a  solecism  in 
mentioning  them  to  Frank  in  this  connection.  The 
mere  discussion  was  an  offence  in  young  Laniston's 
estimation.     He  would  not  longer  suffer  it. 

"  You  are  afraid  that  Lloyd,  my  coach,  might 
get  into  the  german — say  as  a  rover?  "  he  asked, 
with  the  infinitely  exasperating,  callow  sarcasm, 
his  big  white  strong  teeth  gleaming  in  his  rosy 
square-jawed  face.  "  Why,  I  don't  know  whether 
he  can  dance  the  german  at  all.  I  should  say  that 
a  tight-rope  fandango  was  more  in  his  line." 

Jardine  turned  without  another  word,  and  at 
all  the  white-draped  tables  the  amicable  plying  of 
knife  and  fork  continued,  unaware  of  this  provo- 
cation to  a  breach  of  the  peace. 

After  tea  Jardine  lighted  his  cigar  at  the  counter 
in  the  office  and  strolled  out  on  the  side  piazza, 
puffing  at  it  in  a  very  ill  frame  of  mind.  He 
needed  its  solace,  and  the  sedative  influence  to  his 
nerves,  after  the  vexatious  incidents  of  the  even- 
ing, and  the  perplexity  that  beset  him  as  to  how 
he  should  proceed — or  indeed,  with  no  seconding 
from  this  young  cub,  whose  position  as  a  near 
relative  of  the  ladies  authorised  interference,  what 

33S 


The  Windfall 

could  he  do?  Of  course  Jardine  realised  that  his 
solicitude  in  these  troublous  complications  was  en- 
tirely on  Lucia's  account,  but  he  said  to  himself 
that  any  ladies  of  his  acquaintance  placed  in  a  posi- 
tion so  menacing  to  their  dignity,  with  such  inade- 
quate protection  as  the  shallow-pated  Frank  Lanis- 
ton  could  afford,  had  a  claim  on  his  good  offices  to 
spare  them  a  discreditable  episode. 

He  paced  to  and  fro  in  the  chill  air,  pulling 
hard  at  his  cigar  and  glancing  now  at  its  light 
wreaths  of  smoke,  and  now  at  the  illuminated  disk 
of  the  moon,  riding  high  above  the  infinite  soli- 
tudes of  the  mountains.  He  heard  the  wind  stir 
in  the  leaves  far  below  on  the  slope;  he  marked 
how  the  great  ranges  against  the  horizon  fended 
off  the  world;  he  listened  to  the  impetuous  dash 
of  the  mountain  torrent  in  the  ravine  leaping  down 
the  rocky  abysses  on  its  way  to  the  valley.  But 
as  yet  there  was  no  flicker  of  light  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  ballroom,  a  long,  low  building  in  the 
extremity  of  the  west  wing,  remote  from  the  more 
inhabited  portion  of  the  hotel  that  the  sound  of 
revelry  should  not  reach  the  old,  the  invalids,  the 
slumberers  in  the  bedrooms.  There  was  no  vibra- 
tion of  the  tuning  of  the  fiddles  or  banjos,  for  the 
regular  band  had  gone,  and  the  music  of  an  humble 
sort  was  furnished  by  several  of  the  negro  waiters, 
musically  endowed  and  hired  for  the  occasion.  It 
seemed  really  as  if  the  guests  might  not  intend  to 
dance  to-night,  their  limited  number  being  so  re- 
duced by  the  defection  of  the  exhausted  excursion- 

336 


1  The  Windfall 

ists.  From  the  front  piazza,  which  extended  along 
the  whole  facade  of  the  building,  came  the  sound 
of  joyous  young  voices,  and  it  occurred  to  Jardine 
that  perhaps  the  youthful  element  might  content 
themselves  with  promenading  to  and  fro  in  the 
moonlight  till  the  increasing  chill  of  the  air  should 
drive  them  within  to  the  fire  blazing  so  ruddily  on 
the  broad  hearth  of  the  office. 

He  walked  to  the  corner  and  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment, his  cigar  in  his  hand,  casting  his  eye  along 
the  length  of  the  piazza.  It  was  much  as  he  had 
expected.  In  the  white  sheen  of  the  moon  a  young 
couple  here  and  there  slowly  strolled,  idly  chatting. 
The  columns  supporting  the  roof  were  duplicated 
in  shadowy  pilasters  that  extended  the  effect  of 
the  colonnade.  The  bare  boughs  of  a  locust  tree, 
always  the  earliest  denuded  by  the  autumnal  blasts, 
were  drawn  on  a  clear  space  on  the  floor  with  the 
distinctness  of  a  line  engraving,  and  the  dense  foli- 
age of  a  great  oak  close  by  cast  a  deeper  gloom 
within  the  railing  because  of  the  clear  lustre  that 
elsewhere  suffused  mountain  and  valley,  and 
sward  and  pillared  portico.  The  parallelograms 
of  light  earlier  cast  on  the  floor  from  the  lamp-lit 
windows  and  doors  were  now  annulled  by  the  lunar 
brilliancy,  obliterated.  Indeed  he  might  scarcely 
have  discerned  from  where  he  stood  the  position 
of  the  office  door  had  not  the  light,  elegant  form 
of  Lucia  Laniston  with  its  lily-like  suggestions, 
suddenly  issued  from  it,  one  hand  holding  up 
the  sheer  draperies  of  her  dress,  the  other  furling 

337 


The  Windfall 

her  fan  of  dark  green  ostrich  tips.  His  heart 
throbbed  at  the  sight  of  her;  then  he  stood  as  one 
petrified. 

For  a  man,  who  was  leaning  smoking  against 
one  of  the  pillars,  suddenly  threw  his  cigar  over 
the  balustrade  into  the  lawn,  and  with  perfect  as- 
surance approached  and  accosted  her  as  she  stood 
glancing  about  in  loitering  doubt. 

"  Miss  Laniston,"  Jardine  heard  the  words,  for 
Lloyd's  enunciation  was  very  distinct  and  his  voice 
carried  well,  "  you  spoke  to  me  very  kindly  last 
evening — and  I  should  like  to  tell  you  about  some- 
thing, sad  and  wrong  and  irrevocable  in  the  past, 
and  a  very  strange  thing  that  has  befallen  me  to- 
day and  changed  all  my  prospects." 

Jardine  woke  to  sudden  life.  He  strode  along 
the  piazza  and  joined  the  two  before  the  young 
lady  had  framed  her  reply. 

"  Good-evening,  Miss  Laniston,"  he  said  im- 
periously, taking  no  notice  of  the  presence  of 
Lloyd;  "  I  hope  that  you  are  not  too  fatigued  for 
a  stroll  on  the  piazza  to  enjoy  this  balmy  air.  Let 
me  show  you  a  charming  view  of  the  moonlight 
on  the  cascade.  The  stream  has  risen  so  since  the 
storm  that  you  can  see  the  falls  from  the  end  of 
the  piazza  at  the  west  wing." 

He  could  not  believe  his  ears.  "  Later,  per- 
haps— thank  you  very  much — but  just  now  I  am 
engaged." 

She  summoned  Lloyd  with  a  glance,  and  catch- 
ing up  the  fleecy  overdress  with  one  jewelled  hand, 

338 


The  Windfall 

while  the  silken  skirt  below  shimmered  blue  and 
shoaled  green  in  the  moonlight  as  it  trailed,  she 
paced  slowly  along  with  him  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, and  Jardine  noted  the  sympathetic  cadence  in 
her  voice  as  she  invited  the  colloquy  with  a  question. 

Jardine  was  furious,  on  fire,  not  from  jealousy, 
for  he  could  not  stoop  to  recognise  rivalry  from 
this  quarter,  but  with  the  sense  of  the  subjection  of 
the  highly  placed  and  finely  endowed  woman  whom 
he  loved  to  ignoble  association,  which  because  of 
her  youth  and  inexperience  she  knew  not  how  to 
discern  and  repel,  and  from  which  by  reason  of 
the  incompetence  of  her  guardians  and  his  own  lack 
of  authority  she  was  altogether  unprotected.  He 
would  not  be  still — he  would  no  longer  supinely 
submit.  He  turned  into  the  office  of  the  hotel 
animated  with  an  intention  that  would  brook 
neither  denial  nor  delay. 

In  the  summer  this  large  apartment  was  almost 
entirely  relinquished  to  business  and  to  the  mascu- 
line guests  who  were  wont  to  wait  here  for  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  mail,  to  read  the  in-coming  news- 
papers, to  discuss  the  phases  of  politics  and  public 
events  they  suggested,  and  pending  all  to  smoke 
interminably.  Though  the  number  of  habitues 
was  so  wofully  decreased  the  autumn  wrought  an 
added  cheer  in  the  presence  of  great,  alluring, 
genial  fires  and  the  change  of  feminine  intrusion. 
Now  it  was  almost  given  over  to  the  ladies,  but 
neither  politics  nor  tobacco  had  been  tabooed. 
Games  of  hazard  for  stakes  had  always  sought 

339 


The  Windfall 

more  secluded  quarters,  and  naught  could  better 
comport  with  the  sentiment  of  the  refining  influ- 
ences of  woman's  presence  than  the  game  of  chess 
at  which  two  elderly  worthies  sat,  their  eyes  fixed 
on  the  board,  as  motionless  as  if  they  had  been 
stricken  into  stone.  A  group  of  four  ladies  and 
gentlemen  were  deep  in  the  allurements  of  bridge 
at  the  table  in  the  bay  window.  Several  guests 
languidly  swayed  in  rocking-chairs  before  the  fire, 
aimlessly  chatting.  Among  these  was  Mrs.  Lanis- 
ton  cutting  the  leaves  of  a  new  magazine  and 
theorising  ably  on  the  perishable  impression  of 
periodical  literature.  Frank  Laniston  was  hooked 
on  by  the  elbows  to  the  counter,  while  he  gazed  up 
the  staircase  ever  and  anon,  expecting  the  descent 
of  a  very  young  lady  whose  mamma  had  required 
her  to  procure  her  long  red  cloth  coat  before  she 
ventured  out  with  a  party  bound  for  the  spring. 
The  elderly  stranger,  fraternising  with  no  one,  had 
deliberately  lighted  a  cigar  after  observing  that 
the  practice  of  smoking  here  was  permitted, 
and  sat  in  the  chimney  corner,  very  much  at  home, 
composed,  observant,  evidently  enjoying  the  luxury 
of  the  fire  and  satisfied  with  his  surroundings.  He 
took  his  cigar  from  his  lips  and  fixed  his  great, 
shiny,  hazel  eyes  on  Jardine  with  very  much  the 
air  of  being  interrupted,  before  the  stare  of  sur- 
prise effaced  every  other  expression  of  his  large, 
handsome  florid  face. 

11 1  want  to  know  what  you  mean  by  this?  "  Jar- 
dine  said  without  preamble  or  disguise.     His  voice 

340 


The  Windfall 

was  tense  and  low,  but  so  obviously  freighted 
with  passion  that  the  bridge  players  paused  in 
amaze. 

"  What — what?  "  sputtered  the  portly  guest, 
seeming  to  collect  himself  with  difficulty,  and  not 
till  Jardine  had  repeated  the  question  was  he  able 
to  speak  coherently.  "  Mean  by  what,  my  good 
sir?" 

"Mean  by  letting  that  fellow  go  at  large?" 
Jardine  hissed  out.  He  stood  erect  at  a  little  dis- 
tance leaning  on  the  high  back  of  one  of  the  vacant 
rocking-chairs,  and  as  his  hands  now  and  again 
quivered,  responsive  to  the  surge  of  excitement 
in  his  mind,  the  chair  swayed  slightly,  and  then 
was  still  again. 

The  portly  guest  stared  with  unavailing  mtent- 
ness,  as  if  he  sought  with  the  physical  eye  to  dis- 
cern the  mystery.  Then  he  looked  around  at  the 
group  as  if  they,  knowing  Jardine,  might  be  able 
to  explain  him.  But  they  remained  silent  in  blank 
astonishment;  even  the  automata  of  the  chess  table 
turned  dismayed  and  startled  faces,  and  the  knights 
and  castles  and  pawns  had  surcease  of  their 
schemings  for  the  nonce. 

"What  fellow?"  gasped  the  stranger,  seeming 
to  doubt  his  senses.  He  burnt  his  fingers  with 
the  lighted  end  of  his  cigar  in  inadvertent  hand- 
ling, and  he  let  it  fall  to  the  hearth  unheeded. 

"  That  fellow  Lloyd — what  do  you  mean  by 
letting  him  go  at  large?"  Jardine  reiterated  his 
question. 

341 


The  Windfall 

"  My  God,  sir — he  is  perfectly  sane — do  you 
suppose  that  /  am  his  keeper?  " 

"  No,  I  do  not — I  most  certainly  do  not  sup- 
pose that  you  are  any  such  thing,"  Jardine  replied 
with  a  significance  not  to  be  mistaken. 

The  portly  stranger  was  recovering  his  com- 
posure. Under  other  circumstances  he  might 
have  thought  that  Jardine  was  himself  mentally 
unbalanced,  but  he  had  already  noted  him  on  the 
journey  that  day  with  the  keen  observation  that 
little  escaped,  and  he  was  aware  that  there  must 
needs  be  other  methods  of  accounting  for  his 
demonstration. 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  suppose  that  you  and  he 
are,"  Jardine  declared.  He  had  utterly  lost  his 
own  self-control — he  was  tingling  with  the  long- 
repressed  irritation,  vented  at  last  and  utterly  be- 
yond his  power  to  check. 

"  Let  me  warn  you,  sir,"  said  the  newcomer, 
with  a  certain  menacing  dignity  in  his  look,  "  how 
you  dare  asperse  either  that  gentleman  or  myself." 
Then  with  a  sudden,  sinister,  chuckling  laugh,  "  He 
is  more  than  capable  physically  of  resenting  any 
injury,  and  I  tell  you  now  that  if  you  slander  me  I 
will  have  the  law  of  you." 

This  utterance  stirred  the  group. 

"  Permit  me  to  remind  you,  Mr.  Jardine,  that 
ladies  are  present,  and  that  this  violence,  now  and 
here,  is  unbecoming,"  one  of  the  chess  players 
observed.  He  was  an  ancient  bachelor  and  so- 
licitous on  the  subject  of  the  claims  to  delicacy  of 

342 


The  Windfall 

the  fair  sex.  He  thought  this  suggestion  would 
induce  the  feminine  members  of  the  group  to  retire, 
when  the  men  could  have  their  difference  out  as 
best  pleased  them.  But  every  woman  sat  immova- 
ble, absorbed,  interested  in  the  outcome.  They 
had  not  achieved  their  enlarged  liberties  for 
naught.  Not  a  soul  thought  of  retiring  from  the 
scene — if  ever  they  had  known  how  to  faint  they 
had  forgotten  the  accomplishment. 

There  was  not  an  appreciable  pause  and  the 
crisis  was  acute.  One  of  the  bridge  players  rose 
to  the  occasion,  while  the  others  stared  petrified 
and  round-eyed.  He  was  a  tall,  lank,  blond  gentle- 
man, bald  and  clean-shaven.  "  I  think,  Mr.  Jar- 
dine,  you  must  be  under  some  mistake."  His 
hand  in  the  game  was  a  dummy,  and  already  lay 
exposed  upon  the  board  while  the  other  players 
still  clutched  their  cards  tight.  He  approached 
Jardine  thinking  that  by  some  miracle  he  might  be 
intoxicated,  and  keenly  eyed  him  as  he  spoke. 
"  This  gentleman — both,  I  am  sure,  are  strangers 
to  us  all.  I  beg — in  fact,  I  insist  that  you  say  no 
more." 

"  Then,  let  him  tell  us  who  he  is,"  Jardine  per- 
sisted with  a  vehemence  that  amazed  the  coterie, 
"  and  why  he  has  this  Lloyd  in  his  custody." 

"  My  good  sir,  let  me  recommend  you  to  dis- 
cipline your  tongue,"  said  the  stranger  hotly,  "  or 
I  warn  you  again  that  it  will  get  you  into  trouble." 

Jardine's  expression  of  disdainful  contempt  was 
so  definite  that  it  constrained  a  reply. 

343 


The  Windfall 

"  I  never  anticipated  such  a  *  hold  up  '  as  this, 
I  am  sure,"  the  portly  guest  remarked  satirically. 
"  We  are  strangers  to  all  present,  and  I  can't 
imagine  why  anyone  here  should  take  such  a 
vital  interest  in  us — flattering,  very,  but  most 
uncommon." 

"  I  desire  you  to  observe,"  said  one  of  the  gentle- 
men who  had  been  idly  swaying  in  a  rocking-chair, 
aimlessly  chatting,  till  stricken  motionless  and 
dumb  with  amazement,  "  I  desire  you  to  observe 
that  this  intrusive  interest  in  your  personal  affairs 
is  manifested  by  only  one  individual.  We  do  not 
ask  nor  desire  to  know  anything  concerning  them." 

There  was  a  general  civil  murmur  of  unanimity. 

"  I  assure  you  we  have  nothing  to  conceal,"  the 
stranger  said  with  a  sort  of  large,  jocular  scorn. 
"  I  am  a  lawyer — a  member  of  the  Glaston  Bar. 
My  name  is  George  Conway  Dalton — here  is  my 
professional  card,"  he  handed  it  to  the  blond  bald 
bridge  player,  who  received  it  reluctantly  and 
civilly  avoided  looking  at  it.  "  I  came  here  to 
ask  Mr.  Lloyd  to  execute  a  power  of  attorney  to 
enable  me  to  act  in  some  property  interests  in 
which  I  have  already  been  of  counsel,  and  to  ac- 
quaint him  with  the  fact  that  he  is  a  beneficiary 
under  the  will  of  a  relative  from  whom  he  ex- 
pected to  receive  nothing." 


344 


CHAPTER  XVI 

JARDINE,  after  one  moment  of  stultified 
amaze,  felt  as  if  the  floor  were  sinking 
beneath  his  feet.  In  the  sudden  revulsion 
of  his  rage  his  head  whirled,  and  he  saw  the  room 
and  the  people  go  round  and  round  in  concentric 
circles.  But  for  the  chair  he  grasped  he  might 
have  fallen.  He  was  grateful  that  the  interest 
produced  by  the  announcement  so  superseded  the 
surprise  which  his  demonstration  had  occasioned 
that  for  a  time  he  escaped  notice,  and  was  afforded 
an  interval  for  the  recovery  of  his  composure. 

"  I  am  well  acquainted  in  Glaston,"  one  of  the 
coterie  observed.  "  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  you  there,  Mr.  Dalton,  but  I  have  often 
heard  of  you  from  my  relatives,  the  Rickson  family. 
Happy  to  make  your  acquaintance,"  and  he  offered 
his  hand. 

Some  further  informal  introductions  and  aton- 
ing handshaking  ensued  with  the  discovery  of 
mutual  friends,  all  a  trifle  conscious  and  awkward, 
however,  and  there  was  a  very  general  feeling  of 
relief  when  Mrs.  Laniston,  perceiving  the  "  lapse 
into  barbarism, "  as  she  called  it,  at  an  end,  broke 
into  vivacious  comments  with  her  tactful  percep- 
tion of  the  least  nettling  phase  of  the  disclosure. 

"  How  perfectly  delightful — such  a  romantic 
345, 


The  Windfall 

incident — an  unexpected  legacy — a  windfall.  But 
— since  from  the  nature  of  the  case  it  must  be  to 
a  degree  public — may  I  ask  were  not  you  two 
strangers  when  you  met  to-day  in  the  stage?  " 

Mr.  Dalton,  in  younger  and  slimmer  years 
might  have  been  an  acceptable  "  ladies'  man."  He 
beamed  with  most  responsive  urbanity  upon  Mrs. 
Laniston,  and  was  quite  willing  to  permit  a  little 
harmless  gossip  to  annul  the  impression  of  the 
violent  methods  by  which  the  announcement  had 
been  elicited. 

"  I  had  not  the  most  remote  idea  that  he  was 
the  legatee.  I  had  been  looking  for  him — adver- 
tising in  fact  in  every  medium  that  I  thought  might 
meet  his  eye  for  the  last  four  months.  I  heard 
by  an  accident  that  he  was  in  Colbury  as  the  man- 
ager of  a  little  street  fair." 

There  was  a  distinct  sensation  among  the  heavy- 
weights, financial  and  social,  upon  this  mention. 
A  sort  of  dismayed  surprise  usurped  the  genial 
satisfaction  in  more  than  one  face  in  the  coterie. 
Mr.  Dalton  seemed  rather  to  rejoice  in  the  effect 
he  produced,  to  shatter  thus  their  well-bred  nerves. 
He  looked  around  the  circle,  expansively  smiling, 
before  he  went  on :  "  When  the  train  came  in  this 
morning  I  found  that  the  Fair  had  collapsed, 
closed,  and  departed.  Not  disposed  to  a  wild- 
goose  chase  I  sent  telegrams  in  every  direction 
which  I  thought  he  might  take.  I  concluded  to 
await  results,  and  preferred  a  sojourn  at  the 
Springs  to  the  little  town." 

34$ 


The  Windfall 

"  The  subtleties  of  the  professional  legal  mind 
are  past  fathoming,  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston. 
"  But  I  cannot  understand  by  what  keen  insight, 
by  what  unclassified  faculty  of  discrimination  you 
could  say  to  yourself  as  you  toiled  up  the  moun- 
tain beside  an  absolute  stranger  '  This  is  the  lega- 
tee I  am  hunting  for.1  Why,  among  your  fellow- 
travellers,  did  you  select  this  Mr.  Lloyd,  instead  of 
Mr.  Jardine  or  my  son  Francis  Laniston?  " 

Mr.  Dalton  twinkled  appreciatively  as  he  lis- 
tened to  this.  "  I  have  a  mind  to  appropriate 
those  compliments,  madam — you  have  doubtless 
heard  that  the  profession  is  not  overscrupulous  in 
taking  advantage  of  a  concession.  But  the  fact  is 
that  the  young  gentleman's  extraordinary  personal 
appearance  first  gave  me  a  clue  to  his  identity. 
His  mother  took  a  fifteen  thousand  dollar  prize  in 
an  international  beauty  show." 

"  Oh,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Laniston,  fairly  taken 
aback.  She  had  had  it  vaguely  in  her  mind  that 
the  manager  was  not  really  what  he  seemed,  and 
was  about  to  protest  that  she  had  had  the  dis- 
crimination to  discern  this  from  the  first,  inquir- 
ing who  was  "  that  distinguished-looking  young 
gentleman." 

Mr.  Jardine  had  thrown  himself  into  the  rock- 
ing-chair on  which  he  had  been  leaning,  feeling 
that  he  had  done  all  that  he  could,  more  than  his 
unfounded  suspicions  justified,  and  seeking  to  re- 
cover himself  of  his  excitement  and  nervous  strain. 
At  this  disclosure  of  the  showman's  antecedents  he 

347 


The  Windfall 

raised  his  eyebrows  in  sarcastic  disdain.  After  all 
the  Lanistons  were  free  agents,  and  if  they  de- 
liberately chose  association  of  this  type — why,  they 
were  not  for  him  nor  he  for  them. 

Mrs.  Laniston  vaguely  lifted  her  eyes  to  the 
window  opening  on  the  verandah;  to  see  Jardine 
not  in  attendance  on  Lucia  gave  her  an  unwonted 
sense  of  something  awry,  but  the  next  moment  the 
interest  of  the  gossip  annulled  this  impression,  and 
she  was  listening  to  Mr.  Dalton,  who,  having  ex- 
hausted his  relish  of  the  survey  of  the  flinching 
group,  went  on  with  animation. 

11  And  she  was  as  good  as  she  was  pretty — which 
is  saying  a  very  great  deal !  She  provided  for  her 
aged  parents  permanently  out  of  her  prize  money, 
sent  a  consumptive  brother  to  a  hospital  where  he 
was  cured,  to  be  drowned  afterward  on  an  ocean 
voyage.  I  fancy  she  bought  much  fine  dry  goods 
and  frippery;  in  effect  she  distributed  the  sum  in  a 
year  or  so,  contentedly  relying  on  her  slender  sal- 
ary as  a  dancer — they  tell  me  that  despite  her 
beauty  and  grace  she  was  an  indifferent  dancer — 
till  she  met  this  young  fellow's  father,  who 
straightway  married  her." 

Mr.  Dalton  had  reached  the  limit  of  his  capacity 
it  would  seem  to  sustain  the  public  interest.  So 
genteel  a  circle  was  not  entertained  by  a  biography 
of  this  sordid  character.  The  bridge  party,  albeit 
with  a  civil  effect  of  listening,  had  begun  to  play 
out  the  interrupted  hand,  though  the  owner  of  the 
dummy  sat  sideways  in  his  chair  and  still  turned 

348 


The  Windfall 

an  attentive  face.  Mrs.  Laniston,  fluttering  the 
leaves  of  her  magazine,  was  vaguely  disconcerted. 
She  could  hardly  be  said  to  have  her  two  charges 
in  mind  in  this  connection — she  had  no  reason  to 
think  that  the  young  showman  would  presume  to 
speak  to  either  of  them.  Jardine,  a  contemptuous 
satiric  smile  on  his  jaded  face,  sat  languidly 
listening. 

Mr.  Dalton,  perhaps,  had  already  found  a  field 
at  the  Bar  for  his  gift  of  marshalling  facts,  ap- 
proaching with  an  ever-increasing  velocity  of  sig- 
nificance the  climax,  but  a  chancellor,  or  a  puisne 
judge,  or  even  a  jury  was  better  fitted  to  resist  the 
shock  of  sudden  surprise  than  the  idle  summer 
birds  in  their  relaxed  mental  attitude. 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  "  the  father  was  of  a 
different  sort;  he  was  a  young  man  of  the  very 
highest  social  connections.  Moreover,  he  was  tal- 
ented, well-behaved,  studious,  very  young — only 
in  his  junior  year  at  college — heart-rending  infatu- 
ation. His  family  investigated  the  facts  and  when 
they  found  that  the  marriage  was  really  valid  they 
cast  him  off  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  abso- 
lutely, irretrievably.  I  never  shall  forget  Judge 
Lloyd's  dismay " 

"  Judge  Lloyd?"  exclaimed  several  voices  in 
different  keys  of  sharp  surprise. 

"  You  surely  don't  mean  Judge  Clarence  Jen- 
nico  Lloyd  of  Glaston?  "  said  the  gentleman  who 
had  connections  in  that  city,  and  was  familiar  with 
the  status  of  its  principal  people. 

349 


The  Windfall 

"  The  noted  jurist? — I  do !  He  was  considered 
a  hard  man,  but  he  was  a  very  just  one.  This  hap- 
pened in  his  palmy  days,  when  he  was  very  rich 
as  well  as  esteemed  far  and  wide  an  ornament  to 
the  judiciary.  The  family  could  trace  a  long  and 
proud  descent  and  they  carried  their  heads  very 
high.  The  judge  could  not  tolerate  such  a  mesal- 
liance. He  persisted  in  considering  the  woman  a 
designing  baggage  and  tried  to  buy  her  off.  He 
bid  very  high — that  was  before  his  financial 
reverses." 

Mr.  Dalton  swayed  his  big  head  to  and  fro,  his 
eyes  alight  with  the  fires  of  reminiscence  as  the 
scenes  of  nearly  thirty  years  earlier  were  re-en- 
acted in  his  memory.  "  And  yet  from  his  stand- 
point he  was  quite  right.  They  were  very  strict 
religionists,  those  Lloyds — Methodists,  or  Camp- 
bellites,  or  what  not — they  thought  it  a  mortal  sin 
to  attend  even  a  Shakespearean  performance  at  a 
theatre.  Judge  Lloyd  did  not  know  One  card  from 
another — and  was  proud  of  the  fact.  I  remem- 
ber that  once  I  tried  a  case  in  his  court  that  in- 
volved a  gambling  transaction — his  cousin  Charles 
Jennico  was  of  the  opposing  counsel — but  that's 
neither  here  nor  there.  Judge  Lloyd  had  other 
children  then — boys  and  girls — he  could  not  bring 
them  into  such  association — he  could  not  justify 
such  an  example." 

"  Jennico — isn't  that  a  name  down  your  way, 
in  Louisiana,  Mrs.  Laniston?"  one  of  the  chess 
players  suggested. 

350 


The  Windfall 

"  I  was  just  thinking,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston,  her 
surprised  eyes  on  the  fire,  her  thin,  jewelled  fingers 
still  keeping  her  place  in  the  magazine.  "  There 
is  an  inconsiderable  plantation  called  the  Jennico 
place  just  beyond  the  bight  of  the  bayou.  The  pro- 
prietor never  lived  there.  I  always  understood 
that  the  owner  was  wealthy — but  it  is  much 
neglected  and  in  need  of  repair." 

"  It  belongs  to  this  fellow  now,"  said  the  lawyer 
comfortably.  "  What  sort  of  a  house  is  on  it,  do 
you  know,  madam?  " 

"  Not  much  of  a  house — a  six-room  frame,  I 
think — there  is  not  much  land,  but  it  is  of  good 
quality." 

The  lawyer,  identified  with  his  client's  in- 
terests, nodded  his  head,  smiling  as  if  in  personal 
gratification. 

"  I  have  some  curiosity,  Mr.  Dalton,"  said  one 
of  the  chess  players,  a  soul  dedicated  to  problems, 
"  to  know  how  such  an  unexpected  windfall  would 
affect  a  man.  How  did  the  young  fellow  receive 
the  news  of  his  good  fortune?" 

"  Almost  stunned  at  first — dreadfully  taken 
aback;  "  the  lawyer  laughed  and  then  grew  grave. 

"  He  had  some  points  besides  the  money  inter- 
ests to  claim  his  attention,  you  see.  The  danseuse 
and  her  highly  bred  and  refined  husband  had  very 
hard  luck.  Her  earnings  were  poor,  and  he  could 
not  get  employment  in  any  appropriate  way  on  ac- 
count of  the  impression  which  his  marriage  gave  to 
people  of  position.     He  was  naturally  supposed 

35* 


The  Windfall 

to  be  such  a  man  who  would  make  such  a  marriage. 
He  tried  all  sorts  of  things,  unsuited  to  his  training 
and  traditions.  He  was  a  ticket-taker,  an  advance 
agent,  doorkeeper — had  a  classical  education  and 
wrote  theatrical  advertisements  and  puffs  for  news- 
papers— had  no  conception  of  the  dramatic  afflatus, 
wrote  a  play  or  two,  heavy  as  lead,  warranted  to 
fall  flat.  He  succumbed  to  ill-health,  and  then  his 
father,  having  lost  several  children — all  but  this  one 
and  the  eldest,  Robert — and  being  much  softened, 
offered  to  take  this  son  back,  excluding  the  wife 
of  course,  but  paying  her  a  handsome  pension;  this 
was  refused.  Time  went  on;  the  situation  waxed 
worse  continually;  the  judge  then  offered  financial 
assistance  unconditionally.  But  it  came  too  late; 
the  son  died — presently  his  wife  died  also,  and  the 
grandson,  then  almost  grown,  doing  a  '  ground- 
and-lofty-tumbling  turn  '  in  great  glory  in  a  circus 
company  went  his  way,  chiefly  on  his  head.  He 
was  lost  sight  of  for  a  time,  for  Robert  Lloyd, 
an  admirable  man  and  considered  to  have  excel- 
lent business  judgment,  'having  made  several  most 
fortunate  speculations,  went  beyond  his  depth,  was 
caught  in  the  undertow  and  dragged  to  ruin,  over- 
whelming with  him  Judge  Lloyd  himself — I  never 
could  understand  the  tangle  of  Robert  Lloyd's 
affairs.  In  the  confusion  of  the  financial  wreck  no 
one  remembered  this  boy — the  friends  of  the  fam- 
ily thought  the  outcome  well  enough.  The  boy 
in  his  risky  vocation  must  soon  break  his  neck;  and 
thus  the  unlucky  episode  of  the  beauty-prize  winner 

352 


The  Windfall 

in  the  Lloyd  family  would  be  definitely  terminated. 
But,  luckily  enough  it  proved,  the  old  gentleman 
once  saw  this  grandson.  Have  you  met  him — this 
young  fellow?  "  he  broke  off  suddenly,  addressing 
one  of  the  chess  players. 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  the  gentleman  responded  a 
trifle  stiffly — street  fairs  were  not  in  his  line. 

Mr.  Dalton  smiled  benignly.  "  The  most  win- 
ning personality — yet  with  a  quiet  inherent  dignity 
all  his  own,  the  most  disarming  amiability — and  a 
face  that  you  might  wander  through  a  hundred 
exhibitions  of  painting  and  never  see  equalled  for 
a  certain  sort  of  charm.  I  don't  wonder  at 
the  award  for  the  fifteen  thousand  dollar  prize — 
ha,  ha,  ha!" 

"  What  is  it  that  the  court  says  when  counsel 
becomes  prolix — Be  brief,  sir — be  brief,"  sug- 
gested Mrs.  Laniston,  laughing  nervously.  She 
was  surprised  to  find  herself  eager,  expectant. 
"  Your  story  is  too  interesting  to  bear  digressions, 
Mr.  Dalton." 

"  Thanks — thanks  greatly,"  Mr.  Dalton 
beamed. 

"  Well,  the  circus  roaming  around  the  country 
gave  an  exhibition  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Charles 
Jennico's  summer  residence  near  Glaston,  where 
Judge  Lloyd  was  visiting.  He  and  Jennico  were 
first  cousins,  and  after  his  financial  reverses  the 
judge,  who  was  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  scarcely  went 
anywhere  else.  And  this  youngster,  a  man  grown 
he  was  then,  had  the  hardihood,  or  the  good  feel- 

353 


The  Windfall 

ing,  or  the  curiosity — or  nobody  knows  what 
actuated  him — to  deliberately  call  on  the  old  man. 
'*  I  don't  want  a  thing  in  the  world  of  you/  he 
said.  '  But  I  know  that  my  father  owed  you 
much,  and  I  owe  you  much  for  what  my  father 
was  to  me.  I  came  to  pay  my  respects — to  get 
the  glad  hand,  that's  all.'  Judge  Lloyd  never 
opened  his  lips  to  me  on  the  subject  of  this  visit, 
but  he  was  taken  by  surprise,  the  young  man  being 
ushered  into  the  library,  and  Charles  Jennico  was 
sitting  in  the  bay  window — he  used  to  laugh  and 
cry  together  when  he  rehearsed  the  scene.  The 
judge,  he  said,  was  like  a  man  in  a  dream  at  first. 
Then  he  began  to  beseech  this  stranger  to  come  and 
live  with  him  like  a  son  without  conditions  and 
without  restraint.  *  But  I  could  not  become  a  de- 
pendent on  you,'  the  boy  said.  '  It  would  be 
like  a  robbery  of  your  old  age.  I  have  heard  of 
your  financial  reverses  or  I  would  not  have  come. 
I  know  that  you  are  broke.'  And  though  he  put 
it  thus  bluntly  the  judge  did  not  wither  him  with 
a  look.  He  said  that  he  had  influence — without 
depriving  himself  he  could  provide  the  youngster 
with  respectable  employment.  '  You  have  no  idea 
of  my  ignorance,  grandfather.  What  you  call  re- 
spectable employment  for  me  would  have  either  to 
be  a  farce  or  a  gratuity.  I  can  do  real  work,  such 
as  it  is,  where  I  am  and  eat  my  own  bread.'  Judge 
Lloyd  argued  that  he  could  secure  money  for  his 
education.  He  had  friends  who  would  be  glad  to 
oblige  him.      *  It  would  go  hard  with  you  to  ask 

354 


The  Windfall 

a  favour  for  yourself,  sir — you  shall  not  sue  for 
me.'  The  old  gentleman  then  urged  him  to  con- 
sider what  he  would  lose — he  should  have  every 
advantage,  he  should  travel.  '  Grandfather,'  he 
said,  '  I  have  stood  on  my  head  in  every  capital 
of  Europe — what  I  should  be  tempted  to  do  would 
be  to  stay  with  you,  quiet,  resting,  for  I  am  fed 
up  with  stir  and  racket.'  The  whole  thing  cap- 
tured Charles  Jennico's  fancy.  He  said  that  he 
had  never  expected  to  hear  Judge  Lloyd  come  so 
near  a  confession  of  arbitrary  injustice,  as  when 
he  said  how  cruel  had  been  the  past,  and  how  he 
feared  that  he  had  allowed  a  subservience  to  arti- 
ficial standards  to  embitter  and  impoverish  and 
shorten  the  lives  of  the  youth's  parents.  i  You  were 
just  and  true  from  your  standpoint,'  the  boy 
sought  to  comfort  him.  '  A  father  has  a  right 
to  his  son's  obedience  '  — the  old  judge  used  to 
repeat  this  phrase;  it  justified  his  course  to  him- 
self. *  And  yet  my  father  was  right,  too,  from 
his  standpoint — I  can't  judge  between  you.  I 
don't  blame  either  for  what  is  gone.  I  would 
willingly  live  with  you  in  my  father's  place,  but  I 
must  make  and  eat  my  own  bread  and  play  the 
man.  You  made  a  great  mistake  about  my  mother, 
though — you  never  knew  my  mother.  She  was 
It !  She  was  the  whole  team !  She  was  the  Pearl 
you  threw  away,  worth  all  your  tribe !  '  And 
Judge  Lloyd  said  that  he  believed  it  now  that  he 
had  seen  her  son — he  wished  he  had  seen  her 
first.     And  then  the  two,  as  competent  fools  as 

355v 


The  Windfall 

ever  lived,  fell  on  each  other's  necks  and  wept  and 
parted." 

"  Tut,  tut,  tut — what  a  pity,"  said  the  bald- 
headed  bridge  player,  oblivious  of  the  words  of  his 
partner  until  she  twice  repeated,  "  Shall  I  lead, 
partner,"  when  he  caught  himself  with  a  galvanic 
start  and  responded,  "  Pray  do." 

There  was  a  pause  while  Mr.  Dalton  eyed  the 
fire  reflectively,  puffing  at  his  cigar,  which  had 
gone  out  while  he  talked,  requiring  to  be  re- 
kindled. 

"  What  so  won  upon  me  this  afternoon  was  the 
manner  in  which  young  Lloyd  received  the  intelli- 
gence. He  did  not  seem  to  remember  or  care  at 
first  that  his  financial  miseries  were  now  at  an 
end — although  he  has  been  at  his  wit's  end  for 
money  as  he  told  me  afterward;  in  fact,  that  he  had 
not  enough  to  pay  for  his  transportation  with  the 
rest  of  the  troupe  or  show  or  carnival  or  whatever 
the  organisation  is  called,  and  had  even  tried  to 
pawn  his  mother's  engagement  ring  which  had  been 
indeed  his  grandmother's  engagement  ring — an 
heirloom  in  Judge  Lloyd's  family,  a  thing  with  a 
legend,  more  or  less  mythical,  I  suppose." 

Jardine  thought  of  the  gems  he  had  seen  in  the 
safe  of  the  hotel  in  Colbury,  but  he  kept  his  own 
counsel. 

"  Of  course  the  detail  of  the  circumstances 
brought  back  to  him  that  day  of  parting,  and  he 
told  me  that  when  he  had  first  heard  of  his  grand- 
father's death  without  another  word  between  them 

35<> 


The  Windfall 

he  had  deeply  regretted  his  refusal  to  live  witH 
him  in  his  father's  place.  He  thought  he  had 
been  too  sensitive  as  to  his  independence — too 
afraid  of  grafting.  It  would  not  have  been  for 
long.  He  could  have  been  the  solace  of  the  old 
gentleman's  reverses  and  his  age.  He  was  wild 
that  he  had  denied  him  aught — the  only  time  that 
they  had  ever  seen  each  other!  His  grandfather 
had  been  good  to  him  that  day,  he  said.  And 
there,"  said  Mr.  Dalton  with  a  whimsical  wave 
of  his  cigar,  "  I  had  to  wait  and  postpone  the  de- 
tails of  business  communications  while  he  leaned 
up  against  a  tree  in  the  woods  and  sobbed  like  a 
child  because  his  grandfather  had  been  good  to 
him  that  day  when  he  had  offered  him — so  late — 
the  boon  of  a  life  of  precarious  dependence  in  lieu 
of  his  free  agency  and  a  certain  means  of  liveli- 
hood. I  was  touched,  I  must  confess,  I  was  very 
much  touched.  He  has  a  rare  nature,  this-ground- 
and-lofty  tumbler." 

Mr.  Dalton  had  not  observed  the  usual  legal 
reticence  concerning  a  client's  affairs.  The  nature 
of  the  case,  the  will  and  other  matters  of  record, 
would  give  publicity  to  the  mere  facts,  but  he  was 
solicitous,  since  the  details  had  of  necessity  been 
elicited  here,  that  the  personal  character  of  the 
harlequin  legatee  should  be  put  into  evidence,  and 
receive  from  all  the  respect  which  he  felt  to  be 
its  due.  No  better  method  could  he  have  found  to 
disseminate  the  impression  he  wished  to  create 
than  these  reminiscences  addressed  to  a  symposium 

357 


The  Windfall 

"of  idle  gossips.  Their  craftily  titillated  interest 
kept  them  still  loitering  around  the  fire  after  the 
card  and  chess  tables  had  been  abandoned  as  the 
hour  wore  late,  and  when  Mrs.  Laniston  began 
to  ascend  the  stairs  to  her  apartment  she  noted, 
glancing  back  from  the  landing,  that  a  group  of 
gentlemen  with  freshly  lighted  cigars  were  draw- 
ing closer  round  the  hearth  continuing  the  subject 
with  its  cognate  themes. 

She  had  so  unusually  prolonged  her  loitering 
about  the  office  fire  to-night  that  she  found  that  her 
son  and  daughter  had  returned  from  their  mild 
diversions  with  the  other  youth  of  the  place  and 
were  awaiting  her  coming  in  her  room. 

Frank  was  busy  with  some  boxing  gloves  and  was 
directing  with  a  very  exacting  air  precisely  how 
some  stitches  should  be  set  in  the  puffy  awkward 
bags  which  had  somehow  become  ripped.  His 
sister  Ruth,  with  her  thimble  and  waxed  thread, 
had  placed  the  kerosene  lamp  and  her  workbox 
on  the  little  table  and  was  patiently  repairing  the 
damages  according  to  his  directions  to  the  best  of 
her  ability. 

11  Ruthie,  how  close  you  do  put  your  head  to 
the  lamp-chimney,"  her  mother  exclaimed  in  irrita- 
ble warning.  "  Do  be  more  careful,  child.  In 
another  moment  you  would  have  singed  your 
pompadour.     Where  is  Lucia?  " 

Ruth  lifted  the  endangered  rouleau,  stared 
around  a  moment,  as  if  she  expected  to  see  her 
cousin    here.     "  Why,    she    came    upstairs    with 

358 


The  Windfall 

me — "  then  suggesting,  "  She  must  be  in  our  room, 
I  reckon,"  went  on  with  her  work  as  before. 

Mrs.  Laniston,  proceeding  into  the  adjoining 
apartment,  found  that  it  was  not  lighted,  save  by 
the  moon,  pouring  the  white  rays  through  the 
windows,  the  shades  being  still  up,  and  the  shutters 
open.  Outside  was  the  limitless  wilderness  of  the 
mountains,  purple  and  dusky  against  the  light 
indeterminate  blue  of  the  sky.  A  few  stars,  large 
and  whitely  lustrous,  scintillated  at  vast  intervals, 
but  the  moon  was  supreme,  and  the  white  mists 
in  the  valleys  shimmered  with  opalescent  sugges- 
tions of  delicate  tints.  Far  away  the  sudden  shrill 
snarling  cry  of  a  catamount  smote  the  air,  then  all 
was  silent  save  the  rush  of  the  torrent  in  the  valley. 
For  a  moment  it  seemed  that  no  one  was  in  the 
room;  then  Mrs.  Laniston  perceived  that  Lucia 
was  seated,  half  kneeling,  close  by  the  window, 
very  still,  very  silent,  and  she  was  sure  that  the  girl 
had  been  weeping. 

"  Want  anything?  "  asked  Lucia,  in  a  voice  that 
yet  betrayed  tears;  then  she  put  her  elbows  on  the 
window  sill  and  more  deliberately  addressed  her- 
self to  the  contemplation  apparently  of  the  night. 

"  Lucia — chilly  as  it  is !  What  are  you  doing 
at  that  window?  You'll  catch  your  death  of 
cold." 

Lucia  in  a  muffled  voice  muttered  something 
about  the  air  being  quite  balmy,  and  remarked 
that  she  had  been  already  most  of  the  evening 
promenading  on  the  verandah. 

359 


The  Windfall 

"  Why,"  said  Mrs.  Laniston,  stolidly  amazed, 
"  Mr.  Jardine  was  in  the  office  the  whole  time." 

"  We  are  not  the  Siamese  twins,"  said  Lucia 
dully. 

"  Of  course  not.  Who  were  you  with,  most  of 
the  time?" 

For  there  still  remained  at  New  Helvetia  a  num- 
ber of  squires  of  dames,  eminently  available  for 
germans,  and  verandah  promenades,  and  senti- 
mentalisings  in  the  moonlight. 

"  I  was  with  Mr.  Lloyd,  all  the  time."  Her 
voice  quavered  as  she  anticipated  the  note  of  sur- 
prise, and  reprehension,  and  dismay  in  Mrs.  Lanis- 
ton's  rejoinder.     It  sounded  instantly. 

"  Why,  Lucia!     That  showman,  Lloyd?" 

"  I  could  not  very  well  avoid  it — and  I  didn't 
want  to  avoid  it,"  she  said  rather  doggedly. 

Mrs.  Laniston  had  a  monition  of  George  Lanis- 
ton's  ultra  particularity  in  social  matters;  then  she 
had  a  saving  recollection  of  the  standing  of  Judge 
Lloyd. 

"  Oh,  poor  fellow !  I  suppose  he  wanted  to 
boast  a  bit  of  his  legacy.  It  seems  he  comes  of 
good  people  on  his  father's  side,  and  has  been 
remembered  in  a  codicil,  or  something." 

11  He  did  not  mention  the  legacy,  except  that 
he  did  say  as  it  would  make  his  connections  a  matter 
of  newspaper  notoriety  he  did  not  mind  speaking 
of  them.  He  said  he  would  not  do  this  ordinarily, 
for  in  a  man  in  his  humble  business  it  would  seem 
boastful,  and  he  declared  that  he  was  more  proud 

360 


The  Windfall 

of  his  mother,  and  her  generosity,  and  her  strug- 
gles, and  her  courage,  and  her  life  of  sacrifice  in 
the  care  of  those  dear  to  her,  than  of  every  Lloyd 
that  ever  stepped." 

And  the  proud  Miss  Laniston  burst  into  tears 
. — not  the  first  she  had  shed  that  night  over  the 
pathos  of  the  ci-devant  dancer's  woes. 

"  Why,  Lucia,"  Mrs.  Laniston  exclaimed,  ir- 
ritably, "  I  am  surprised  that  you  should  be  so 
weak." 

Lucia  had  no  desire  to  be  strong;  she  continued 
to  weep  without  reserve. 

"  She  was  lovely — lovely;  I  can  see  it  through 
all  he  says  of  her,  and  how  bitterly  she  blamed 
herself  to  be  the  cause  of  her  husband's  and  son's 
abandonment  by  their  fine  relations.  She  would 
have  been  willing  to  give  them  up,  to  go  off  any- 
where, in  any  poverty,  so  they  might  have  the 
position,  and  luxuries,  and  advantages  of  the  sta- 
tion to  which  they  were  born.  But  they  clung  to 
each  other  and  to  her,  as  anybody  might  know  they 
would!" 

And  once  more  the  hot  tears  came. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  in  which  Mrs. 
Laniston  canvassed  this  unprecedented  diffi- 
culty. 

"  And  now  he  reproaches  himself  that  afterward 
he  did  not  go  to  his  grandfather.  He  is  wild 
about  it.  He  says  his  grandfather  was  right  from 
his  standpoint,  and  he  was  old  and  forlorn,  and 
yearned  for  the  arm  of  his  son's  son  to  lean  upon. 

361 


The  Windfall 

He  is  stricken  with  remorse,  and  he  has  no  peace. 
No — he  didn't  talk  at  all  about  the  legacy." 

Mrs.  Laniston  gathered  her  forces  for  a 
desperate  coup. 

"  Lucia  Laniston,  listen  to  me.  You  are  not 
falling  in  love  with  that  man,  for  of  course  you 
couldn't  consider  so  ignorant  a  person,  with  so 
frightful  an  accent  and  choice  of  phrases.  But 
you  are  allowing  your  imagination  to  become 
involved." 

"  Oh,  no,  Aunt  Dora,"  Lucia  murmured.  But 
Mrs.  Laniston  kept  on. 

"  It  is  not  becoming  for  you  to  sit  here  on  the 
floor  in  that  nice  dress — and  there  is  no  earthly 
process  by  which  those  delicate  fabrics  can  be 
cleaned — and  weep  your  eyes  out  about  a  stranger's 
mother.  No  matter  how  lovely — and  she  took  an 
international  prize  for  beauty — she  was  a  circus 
girl,  or  a  ballet  dancer,  a  position  that  in  itself 
it  is  impossible  to  ignore  or  forget,  no  matter  what 
he  or  anyone  else  may  say.  I  am  glad,  since  his 
father  was  one  of  Judge  Lloyd's  sons,  that  he  is 
to  be  redeemed  from  that  awful  calling;  it  seems 
that  he  will  own  that  small  Jennico  plantation 
near  us  in  Louisiana,  and  the  little  six-room  frame 
house  on  it.  I  suppose  he  will  farm  there, 
and  maybe  some  people  will  receive  him  on 
sufferance — such  an  uneducated  man,  my  dear! 
Of  course  I  know  if  he  were  really  rich  he 
could  go  where  he  pleases,  and  the  best  society 
would  pull  caps  for  him,  and  he  could  marry  whom 

362 


The  Windfall 

he  chooses.  Don't  think  I  am  sordid,  dear.  I 
don't  make  these  conventions.  They  are  the  in- 
exorable law  of  the  world.  But  consider,  my 
dear,  what — once  in  New  Orleans,  or  St.  Simon's 
Island,  or  Jacksonville — you  would  think  of  such 
a  cavalier.  You  know  I  have  never  been  hateful 
and  stiff  with  you  and  Ruth.  I  have  let  you  have 
all  the  good  time  you  could  with  propriety.  I 
think  this  young  fellow's  prize-beauty  makes  him 
very  fetching,  and  his  '  lydy,'  isn't  the  awful  ad- 
dress it  would  be  on  any  other  tongue;  and  his 
suddenly  inheriting  a  bit  of  money  is  like  a 
romance.  But  life  is  made  up  of  commonplaces 
and  realities,  dear,  and  a  girl  who  lets  herself 
dream  in  the  moonlight  must  wake  at  least  to  a 
very  sordid  day.  Your  papa  wouldn't  forgive  me 
if  I  didn't  warn  you,  dear.  Love  must  be  founded 
on  respect;  a  man  must  be  in  a  position  for  a 
woman  to  look  up  to  him,  to  defer  to  his  experi- 
ence and  judgment,  and  superior  information  and 
education.  A  woman  cannot  lead  a  husband  by 
the  hand." 

"  You  take  too  much  for  granted,  Aunt  Dora," 
Lucia  interrupted,  a  trifle  angrily. 

"  A  man  with  a  past  like  his  would  reveal  a 
thousand  amazing  tastes  and  prejudices  and  views, 
the  like  of  which  you  never  heard.  You  would 
spend  your  life  in  teaching,  and  combating,  and 
obliterating.  And  the  little  six-room  frame — 
seems  to  me  it  has  a  little  garden  in  front,  with 
turfed  flower  beds,  raised  in  stars,  and  hearts,  and 

363 


The  Windfall 

triangles.  If  cotton  doesn't  pick  up  somehow  you 
can't  expect  much  from  your  father  till  his  death — i 
I  hope  for  your  sake,  as  well  as  his,  that's  a  long 
way  off.  He  is  a  young  man,  comparatively;  he 
may  marry  again.  I  want  you  to  make  a  com- 
fortable match,  and  be  easy  and  happy.  Ruth's 
prospects  are  so  good  in  her  engagement  to  Philip 
Trumbull — I  wish  I  could  make  her  write  more 
regularly  to  that  man — she  is  so  idle ! — and  I 
couldn't  bear  for  you  to  be  less  appropriately 
placed." 

"  I  haven't  asked  him  to  marry  me,  Aunt  Dora," 
Lucia  said  suddenly  in  her  natural  manner,  "  and 
I  can  assure  you  that  he  has  not  made  the  slightest 
intimation  tending  that  way." 

"Well,  so  far,  so  good!  Get  up  off  the  floor 
— that  stuff  pulls  so,  and  just  see  how  your  knee 
is  straining  it.  What  a  moonlight  night!  "  she 
exclaimed,  rising  and  standing  before  the  window. 
"  What  a  mystery  on  the  mountains !  " 


364 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  morning  broke  with  abounding  good 
cheer.  It  was  impossible  not  to  respond 
to  the  revivifying  matutinal  influences. 
The  vast  solemnity  of  the  austere  mountain  ranges 
filling  the  universe  seemed  more  impersonal.  Some 
stupendous,  resplendent  work  of  art  might  thus 
affect  the  senses.  Only  a  keenly  receptive  tem- 
perament, the  impressionable,  plastic  mood,  might 
embrace  its  insistent  meaning,  its  eloquent  mes- 
sage, its  redundant  appeal  to  every  vibrant,  sensi- 
tive pulse.  One  saw  the  reality,  yet  put  it  aside, 
postponed  it,  like  the  great  facts  of  life  and  death, 
and  the  momentousness  of  eternity,  turning  instead 
to  the  cheerful  trifle  of  the  hour.  And  perhaps  it 
was  enough  to  breathe  such  fresh  balsamic  air,  to 
hear  the  sonorous  periods  of  the  lordly  wind  sound- 
ing over  cliff  and  torrent,  while  all  the  poly-tinted 
leafy  forests  bent  in  obeisance;  to  see  with  the 
shallow  outward  eye  the  variant  tints  of  blue,  from 
the  dark  blurred  efflorescence  on  the  nearest  slopes 
to  the  translucent  sapphire  of  further  ranges  and 
thence  to  a  hard,  clear,  turquoise  blue,  and  so  to 
a  faint,  vague  azure  that  one  could  hardly  dis- 
criminate from  the  sky  line;  and  above  still,  the 
silent  great,  white  domes,  where,  although  so 
early,  the  snow  had  fallen.     Even  the  shadows 

3^5 


The  Windfall 

were  but  simulacra  of  winged  joys,  as  the  white 
dazzling  clouds  sped  through  the  sky,  while  their 
similitudes  followed  swiftly  below  over  the  moun- 
tain side  and  the  valley,  racing  for  some  unim- 
agined  aerial  goal.  The  air  was  full  of  woodsy 
fragrance — the  odour  of  sere  leaves,  the  pungent 
aroma  of  mint  and  of  waterside  weeds,  the  balsamic 
breath  of  fir  and  pine.  Keen,  too,  withal;  the 
group  gathering  around  the  hearth  in  the  office 
comprised  all  the  adult  guests  in  the  house,  save 
a  few  loiterers,  still  lingering  at  the  breakfast 
tables  nearest  the  fire  in  the  great  dining-room. 
Now  and  then  juvenile  parties  came  thundering 
down  the  stairs  with  golf  clubs  or  tennis  rackets, 
rushed  through  the  office,  and  were  gone,  banging 
the  glass  doors  to  imminent  fracture,  or  the  hearth- 
side  was  recruited  by  the  laggards  from  the  break- 
fast table  bringing  a  whiff  of  cold  air  from  the 
transit  through  the  hall.  Ruth  and  Lucia  were 
rubbing  their  pink  hands,  and  shivering  in  their 
boleros  of  dark  red  and  light  blue  cloth  respec- 
tively, worn  over  their  sheer  lawn  morning  dresses, 
to  the  wonderment  of  Jardine,  who  could  not  com- 
prehend why,  if  they  were  cold,  they  should  not 
wear  warm  cheviot  gowns,  unmindful  of  the  un- 
written law  of  truly  orthodox  Southern  women, 
who  would  fain  cling  to  their  white  lawn  attire 
till  the  snow  falls.  Lloyd's  theatric  discrimination 
had  already  appraised  the  effect  of  their  Dresden 
belt  ribbons,  and  high  stocks,  the  one  in  red  and 
brown,  the  other  blue  and  pink.     He  bowed  to 

366 


The  Windfall 

them  with  distant  gravity,  but  his  face  had  a  sug- 
gestion of  happiness  which  had  not  heretofore 
characterised  its  quiet  composure.  His  peculiar 
appeal  to  popular  favour  had  been  all  the  more 
effective  because  of  the  romantic  history  of  good 
fortune  detailed  in  his  absence  last  night,  and  there 
had  been  some  very  hearty  hand-shaking  in  the 
casual  introductions  around  the  fireside  this  morn- 
ing. All  the  house  looked  with  a  joyous  prepos- 
session upon  the  newly  found  legatee  and  a  sort 
of  vicarious  pleasure.  They  were  even  prepared  to 
find  a  certain  quaint  zest  in  his  "  outrageous 
profession,"  as  one  irreconcilable  old  prig 
called  it. 

"Did  you  have  a  fine  bout  with  the  gloves?" 
asked  a  clean-shaven  gentleman,  taking  his  cigar 
from  his  smiling  lips.  His  expression  just  now 
was  as  benignant  as  a  bishop's,  but  he  was  broker 
at  home. 

Lloyd  was  a  trifle  embarrassed;  he  did  not  know 
how  much  of  the  lawn  had  been  in  view  from  his 
interlocutor's  point  of  observation. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Laniston  will  get  so  he  can  stand 
up,  after  a  little." 

There  was  a  laugh  around  the  circle,  and 
Frank's  pink  cheeks  grew  very  red. 

"  Why,  Francis,"  exclaimed  his  mother  in  gen- 
uine amazement,  "  I  thought  you  were  a  champion 
boxer!" 

"  Oh,  I've  got  it  in  for  him,  good  and  hot," 
Frank  sputtered,  over  his  cigarette. 

367 


The  Windfall 

"Did  he  down  you?"  asked  the  broker. 
"Really?" 

"  I  fell  over  somehow,  every  time  he  crooked 
his  little  finger." 

"  I'll  get  him  so  that  he  can  stand  up,"  said 
Lloyd  patronisingly. 

"  There's  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between 
a  pastime  and  a  profession,"  said  the  broker.  "  We 
see  that  in  the  market — a  little  flier  once  in  a  while 
— and  a  plunger." 

"  But  will  you  continue  this  profession,  Mr. 
Lloyd?  "  the  prig  fixed  him  with  such  a  scandalised 
expression  in  his  prominent,  lashless  eyes,  that  it 
amounted  to  an  intentional  reproach  and  affront. 

Mr.  Dalton  seemed  to  resent  it. 

"  He  has  something  better  to  do."  He  laughed 
prosperously,  and  stroked  his  moustache. 

"  He  was  signing  cheques  for  half  an  hour  this 
morning,"  continued  the  lawyer.  This  boast  was 
not  in  the  best  taste,  but  Lloyd  had  so  far  won 
upon  him  that  he  was  both  sensitive  and  belligerent 
in  his  client's  behalf. 

The  showman  was  pained,  and  winced  visibly. 

"  Just  some  little  things  I  wanted  before  the 
fairy  gold  melts  away,"  he  said,  laughing  but 
disconcerted.  He  had  begun  to  entertain  great 
confidence  in  Mr.  Dalton,  but  bruiser  though  he 
was,  he  could  not  appreciate  the  lawyer's  faculty 
for  putting  people  down. 

Mr.  Dalton  took  from  his  pocket  a  great  sheaf 
of  letters,  ready  stamped  for  the  mail. 

363 


The  Windfall 

"  And  I  had  better  post  these  while  I  think  of 
it;  "  he  began  to  sift  them  apart,  and  one  by  one 
slipped  them  into  a  slit  in  the  counter  where  a  box 
lurked  for  their  reception. 

"  The  first  expresses  filial  piety,  and  endows  a 
bed  in  a  hospital  in  his  mother's  name.  The  sec- 
ond orders  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  his 
parents." 

Mr.  Dalton  looked  around  with  a  triumphant 
eye,  evidently  bent  on  "  rubbing  it  in." 

"  Then  comes  the  discharge  of  just  debts. 
James  Tunstan." 

"  That's  Wick-Zoo,"  said  Lloyd,  suddenly  for- 
getful of  the  public  display  of  his  affairs.  He 
looked  with  a  laugh  of  extreme  relish  at  Frank, 
who  cried  hilariously,  "  Oh,  hi !  the  wild  man !  " 

"  And  John  Haxon." 

"  Captain  Ollory,"  Lloyd  interpreted,  still  smil- 
ing, half  regretfully;  the  street  fair  seemed  now 
some  tender  reminiscence  of  many  a  year  agone. 

"  I  can't  persuade  my  young  friend  to  sever  his 
connection  with  the  greatest  show  on  earth,"  Mr. 
Dalton  laid  the  letters  on  one  knee  and  glanced 
around  the  circle  with  an  expression  of  disapproval 
and  exasperation.  "  That  is,  he  doesn't  propose 
to  manage  it  personally  or  to  perform,  but  he  still 
remains  a  partner,  and  intends  to  finance  it.  With 
all  its  faults,  he  loves  it  still! — and  Haxon  suc- 
ceeds to  the  managerial — er — er — er — ermine." 

"  Why,  they'd  go  to  pieces  without  me — to  ever- 
lasting smithereens!"  exclaimed  Lloyd    excitedly. 

369 


The  Windfall 

"  And  it's  hard  to  get  a  place  in  a  company  to 
break  your  neck  in !  " 

"  But  I  understand  they  went  off  and  left  you" 
6aid  Dalton. 

"  Somebody  had  to  stay,  and  I  was  the  captain 
of  the  ship." 

"  But,  Mr.  Lloyd,  think  of  the  unpleasant  per- 
sonal publicity,"  said  the  priggish  gentleman. 
"  They  will  advertise  your  name  in  this  connection 
and  make  money  out  of  it.  That's  what  they'll  do 
— make  money  out  of  it.  They  will  use  your  acces- 
sion to  fortune  as  a  sensation,  a  card  to  draw  peo- 
ple to  the  show." 

"  Exactly  what  I  wrote  to  Haxon — work  it  for 
all  it's  worth,  and  quit  sousin'  in  that  old  tank  of 
yours  that  will  break  your  back  and  drown  you 
some  day!  I'll  keep  that  show  going — straight 
goods;  it  kept  me  going  many  a  day." 

Mr.  Dalton  mournfully  shook  his  head,  and  the 
priggish  gentleman,  too  inquisitive  for  good  form 
— but  he  was  justified  in  some  degree  by  the  un- 
common circumstances — demanded: 

"  Then  you  contemplate  a  different  occupation 
for  your  own  life,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes;  I'm  fed  up  with  knocking  about  the 
world.  I  want  to  be  quiet  for  a  change.  I'll  go 
to  my  own  house,"  he  paused,  and  shook  his  head 
a  trifle  sadly.  "  Sounds  funny  to  me!  I  don't  un- 
derstand farming,  but  I'll  see  if  I  can  catch  on.  I 
like  animals,  but  they're  wild  generally;  the  lions 
and  panthers  and  such  fellows  always  get  to  know 

37,0 


The  Windfall 

me  almost  before  I  notice  them.  Maybe  cows  and 
mules  would  seem  tame."     He  laughed  a  little. 

"  Professor  Gordon  B.  Lancaster,"  read  Mr. 
Dalton  from  another  stamped  and  addressed  en- 
velope, " — thought  I'd  mislaid  his  letter;  desiring 
if  possible  to  secure  his  company  and  services." 

"  Ah,  to  read  with  Mr.  Lloyd,"  said  the  prig- 
gish gentleman,  a  look  like  a  benediction  in  the 
lashless  orbs,  such  satisfaction  beamed  from  them. 
"  Yes — yes;  you  are  still  young  enough  to  prepare 
for  a  collegiate  course." 

"  But  I  don't  contemplate  that,"  said  Lloyd, 
very  calmly;  "  I'd  fizzle  out  at  that.  This  gentle- 
man, if  he  accepts,  will  seem  to  the  world  to  be  my 
secretary,  but  in  private  life  he  will  be  my  tutor, 
and  live  with  me  in  my  house." 

Mrs.  Laniston  looked  bewildered. 

"  But  I  should  think  that  would  be  more  ex- 
pensive than  a  regular  university  course." 

Mr.  Dalton  smiled  and  beamed,  and  tapped  the 
letter  against  the  sheaf  he  was  sorting. 

"  A  good  bit  of  money  goes  with  the  real  es- 
tate. Mr.  Lloyd  thinks  he  can  afford  to  put  himself 
on  a  level  in  culture  with  his  station." 

"  Very  praiseworthy,"  said  the  prig. 

"  I  haven't  the  proper  foundation  for  the  clas- 
sics," explained  Lloyd.  "  I  propose  that  this  gent 
shall  read  with  me.  Hist'ry  is  the  racket  I  care 
most  for.  When  I  performed  with  a  circus  com- 
pany I  travelled  with  through  Europe,  I  saw 
enough  to  excite  my  wonder,  and  I  jus'  wondered, 

37i 


The  Windfall 

an'  wondered.  Now  I  want  to  know.  And  the 
poets  and  general  literachure !  My  father  used  to 
read  a  great  deal  of  such  stuff  when  his  health  had 
disabled  him,  and  I  am  going  to  travel  right  along 
the  road  he  took,  and  read  the  words  he  read,  and 
dream  the  dreams  he  dreamed.  I  never  had  the 
time  before.  I'm  strong  on  the  common  rudiments 
— readin'  and  writin'  and  arithmetic." 

"  A  very  fair  accountant,"  Mr.  Dalton  com- 
mended the  meritorious  attainment. 

"  Oh,  yes;  kept  the  books  of  the  company." 

"  '  Greatest  show '  "  suggested  Mr.  Dalton, 

dimpling. 

And  the  impresario  had  the  grace  to  laugh 
good-humouredly,  though  he  flushed,  too. 

"  Now  here  are  two  letters  to  the  department 
stores,"  said  Mr.  Dalton,  who  for  some  reason 
seemed  bent  on  exploiting  his  client,  who  in  his 
inexperience  and  his  absorption  in  the  strange  de- 
velopments of  his  affairs,  apparently  saw  nothing 
unusual  in  the  trend  of  the  conversation. 

"  They've  not  got  stamps,"  he  exclaimed  ex- 
citedly, "  That'll  never  do.  They  must  get  off ! 
Can  you  accommodate  me?"  to  the  affable  clerk. 
"  Thanks,  much." 

"They  are  both  orders  for  dry  goods?"  said 
Mr.  Dalton. 

"  Oh,  no;  this  is  for  the  hydrostatic  bed  for  the 
Living  Skeleton.  That  poor  man's  bones,  that  he 
lives  by,  torture  him.  The  feather  beds,  and  the 
flock  beds,  and  the  mattresses  are  simply  fierce. 

372 


The  Windfall 

And  he  is  stingy,  yet  he  is  tolerably  warm  in  this 
world's  goods.  And  he  is  an  educated  man.  But 
he  always  stuck  at  the  expense.  Now  he  has 
got  it." 

Lloyd  chucked  the  letter  into  the  slit  with  ex- 
treme satisfaction. 

"  Stop — hadn't  you  better  ask  some  lady  about 
the  number  of  yards  for  that  gown,  Mrs.  Lanis- 
ton,  for  instance,  before  you  mail  that  letter?  " 

"  If  you  wjll  be  so  very  kind."  The  ci-devant 
showman  turned  toward  Mrs.  Laniston  with  that 
distinguished  manner  which  she  had  first  observed 
in  him.  "  It  depends,  of  course,  on  the  size  of  the 
person.  It  is  a  gown  for  the  fat  lydy.  She  is 
sensitive,  and  suffers  dreadfully  from  the  public. 
But  she  is  a  very  nice  lydy !  I  think  she  would  like 
to  be  beautiful,  and  as  she  has  so  few  pleasures  I 
thought  a  surprise  might  tickle  her.  So  I  ordered 
sixty  yards  of  silk — the  heaviest  and  best  quality." 

"  Oh,  oh,  I  should  think  that  would  be  ample," 
said  Mrs.  Laniston,  decorously  able  to  preserve  her 
gravity. 

But  Ruth's  dimples  could  not  be  hid;  she  was 
all  pink  now,  and  smiled  alluringly. 

"  What  tint — Mr.  Lloyd?  "  she  asked. 

"  Alice  blue,"  he  replied,  quite  solemnly,  and 
Ruth's  suppressed  laughter  burst  out  uncontrollably 
at  the  idea. 

His  eyes  had  a  suggestion  of  reproach,  as  he 
looked  at  her,  but  Lucia's  face  was  grave,  deeply 
flushed,  pondering,  pained. 

373 


The  Windfall 

"Hard  life,  to  be  a  freak,"  Lloyd  said;  then 
as  if  for  tabulation  of  correspondence  by  Mr.  Dal- 
ton — "  One  dozen  pink  sandals  for  flying  lydy. 
She  has  so  much  trouble  presenting  fresh  soles  to 
the  public,  and  dingy  ones  show  so." 

"  And  now,  your  grand  relative,  Thomas  Lloyd, 
Esquire." 

"  Do  you  visit  him  in  Glaston?"  the  habitue 
of  Glaston  asked  with  an  added  infusion  of  respect. 

"  No,  sir!  "  said  the  ex-showman,  with  his  first 
touch  of  stiffness.     "  He  visits  me  at  my  house." 

"  Mr.  Thomas  Lloyd  wrote  to  request  the 
honour  of  a  visit,  and  I  brought  the  letter,"  said 
Mr.  Dalton;  he  still  had  the  air  of  exploiting  a  case 
and  marshalling  his  points,  one  by  one,  before  a 
judge  or  a  jury.  "  It  seemed  an  agreeable  arrange- 
ment to  me,  but  Mr.  Lloyd  saw  the  matter  in  a  dif- 
ferent light.  He  is  a  man  equipped  for  tours  de 
force,  and  he  seemed  to  think  it  best  to  make  the 
mountain  come  to  Mahomet.  So  we  telegraphed  his 
refusal  and  his  counter  invitation  last  night,  and 
received  a  long  distance  telephone  of  acceptance 
this  morning.  Now  Mr.  Lloyd  writes  to  name  the 
day.  It  seems  he  is  not  leaving  New  Helvetia 
immediately." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  inconvenience  yourself  on  my 
account — our  little  contract,"  said  Frank,  with 
solicitude. 

Lloyd  showed  sudden  embarrassment. 

"  No — no ,"  he  said,  his  fine  face  flushing, 

his  candid  eyes  faltering.    "  Not  on  your  account. 

374 


The  Windfall 

I  know  you'd  release  me.  I'm  tired  of  hustling 
round;  and — I  like  the  place,  and  I've  a  little  leis- 
ure now." 

Mr.  Jardine  hearkened  to  this  in  prophetic  dis- 
pleasure. His  pride,  his  self-respect,  had  been 
cut  down  by  the  part  he  had  played  in  the 
esclandre  of  the  previous  evening,  and  yet  he 
could  not  reproach  himself  with  precipitancy.  He 
had  vainly  sought  to  evade,  to  shake  off  this 
dangerous,  this  derogatory  association,  since  the 
incident  of  the  Ferris  Wheel.  The  crisis  was 
forced  when  he  had  seen  the  woman  he  loved 
and  admired  and  respected  unsuspiciously  prom- 
enading the  moonlit  verandah  in  this  show- 
man's company.  The  fact  that  he  proved  to  be 
the  scion  of  a  family  of  standing,  and  that  he  had 
been  lifted  from  vagabondage  to  competence  by 
the  provisions  of  a  will  did  not  in  any  small  de- 
gree annul  the  objections  to  his  career  and  the 
suspicion,  which  Jardine  felt  was  justified,  of  re- 
cent complicity  with  the  moonshiners  in  their  un- 
lawful traffic.  Jardine's  inherent  caution,  how- 
ever, was  rendered  more  conservative  by  the  circum- 
stance that  the  fellow-traveller  had  proved  to  be  a 
lawyer,  rather  than  a  Federal  emissary,  and  was 
charged  with  a  mission  of  honour  and  service  to 
the  object  of  his  suspicion  instead  of  espionage  and 
arrest,  as  he  had  fancied,  and  he  was  devoutly 
thankful  that  this  ludicrous  mistake  of  identity  was 
not  definitely  elicited  in  his  impetuous  and  unchar- 
acteristic outburst  last  night,   when   he   had   de- 

3751 


The  Windfall 

manded  an  explanation.  The  sensational  outcome 
with  its  elements  of  romance,  so  alluring  to  the 
average  mind,  had  served  to  obliterate  at  the  time 
Jardine's  own  extraordinary  conduct,  and  although 
it  had  recurred  to  the  memory  of  more  than  one 
of  the  group,  since  the  excitements  had  subsided, 
they  had  hesitated  to  mention  it.  Jardine  was 
not  a  drinking  man,  but  intoxication  only  might 
serve  to  account  with  simplicity  for  the  demon- 
stration. His  was  a  nature  of  almost  austere 
reserve  and  his  presence  had  always  a  certain 
distinction  and  dignity  difficult  to  disregard.  Most 
of  those  present  after  the  breaking  up  of  the  party 
last  night,  lingering  to  finish  out  their  cigars,  had 
reconciled  themselves  to  the  ravages  of  their  curi- 
osity, and  there  was  a  sentiment  of  gratitude  as  to 
a  public  benefactor  when  the  broker  suddenly  ac- 
costed Jardine. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Jardine,  you  treated  us  to 
a  fine  sensation  to-night.  Were  you  acquainted 
with  this  lawyer  and  his  lucky  client,  or  whom  did 
you  suppose  them  to  be?  " 

"  A  case  of  mistaken  identity,"  said  Jardine 
easily,  but  with  the  certain  aloof  composure  that 
became  him  so  well.  "  I  beg  you  won't  refer  to  it. 
I  could  not  discuss  it — very  embarrassing.  Good- 
night."   And  he  turned  away. 

In  the  days  that  ensued  Mr.  Jardine's  gloomy 
expectations  seemed  hardly  likely  to  be  justified. 
Mrs.  Laniston  had  taken  the  helm  with  a  strong 
hand,  and  the  sway  that  she  could  maintain  when 

37^ 


The  Windfall 

she  would  was  amply  manifest.  The  two  girls 
were  continually  under  her  wing,  and  the  old 
routine  of  their  occupations  was  re-established  as 
before  the  outing  to  Colbury.  Jardine  once  more 
found  himself  her  partner  at  bridge  against  Lucia 
and  Ruth,  whiling  away  long  hours  of  rainy 
weather,  while  Lloyd  was  smoking  and  chatting 
or  playing  billiards  with  some  of  the  other  gentle- 
men, with  whom  he  had  swiftly  become  cordial 
friends,  or  deep  with  his  lawyer  in  business  cor- 
respondence, or  out  exercising  with  the  stalwart 
Frank.  Mrs.  Laniston  was  not  so  radical  in  her 
management  of  the  situation  as  to  attract  atten- 
tion, not  even  indeed  from  the  persons  most  con- 
cerned. Now  and  again  Lloyd,  all  unsuspicious 
of  her  effort  at  avoidance,  entered  into  conversa- 
tion with  the  two  young  ladies  in  the  group  by  the 
office  fire,  and  their  chaperon  had  not  a  word  or 
glance  to  check  them.  She  even  smilingly  sur- 
veyed the  scene  when  more  than  once  he  joined 
them  in  the  procession  of  young  people  who,  in 
wraps  and  rubbers,  essayed  a  constitutional  tramp, 
trudging  up  and  down  the  wet  and  windy  piaz- 
zas while  the  persistent  rain  steadily  fell  without 
and  the  rest  of  the  world  had  vanished  utterly 
in  the  clouds.  But  these  occasional  incidents  oc- 
cupied inconsiderable  fractions  of  time,  and  counted 
but  scantily  against  the  long  hours  that  Jardine 
spent  in  their  society,  at  cards,  or  driving  in  the 
woods,  or  reading  aloud  to  them,  while  they  sat 
at  their  crochet-work  in  the  bay-window,  an  im- 

377 


The  Windfall 

proving  book,  of  which  Mrs.  Laniston  had  ex- 
pressed her  desire  that  he  should  give  them  his 
views,  in  marginalia,  so  to  speak,  which  were  some- 
what in  contravention  of  the  conclusions  of  the 
author.  Mr.  Jardine  entertained  a,  conviction  not 
only  that  he  read  well,  but  that  his  thoughts  did 
not  suffer  disparagement  in  contrast  with  the  ex- 
positions of  the  text. 

It  was  not  altogether  with"  a  good  grace,  how- 
ever, that  Jardine  fell  into  line  under  these  tactics. 
Mentally  he  revolted  at  every  concession,  even 
slight  and  apparently  obligatory,  to  evade  an  awk- 
ward discrimination  against  Lloyd.  Jardine  could 
tolerate  no  half  measures,  and  the  errors  of  this 
policy  he  deemed  amply  demonstrated  one  morn- 
ing of  brilliant  sunshine  when  all  the  guests  were 
assembled  in  the  hotel  office  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  the  stage  from  Colbury. 

When  the  stage  came  in  with  the  mail,  but  with 
not  a  single  passenger,  there  was  a  general  diversion 
of  the  attention  of  the  group  around  the  fire.  Let- 
ters were  opened  and  read,  the  recipients  now 
frowning  over  unwelcome  information,  now  with 
hard-set  teeth  and  firm  jaw,  as  the  eyes  scanned  the 
lines,  in  prophetic  refusal  of  a  proposition  as  yet 
hardly  presented.  Only  once  or  twice  was  there  a 
gleam  of  pleasure,  so  awry  does  the  world  go  with 
most  of  us,  so  do  anxiety  and  disillusionment,  and 
actual  disaster  predominate.  The  composite  ex- 
pression of  countenance  of  the  group  after  opening 
the  mail  was  a  reluctant  and  grudging  thanksgiving 

378 


The  Windfall 

that  matters  were  no  worse.  The  columns  of 
market  prices  and  stock  quotations  in  the  news- 
papers came  in  for  serious  and  silent  study,  and  the 
politician,  who  had  congressional  aspirations,  pon- 
dered long  and  deeply  over  the  reports  of  the  re- 
turns from  certain  local  elections,  of  moment  to  a 
possible  canvass. 

Mr.  Dalton  and  his  young  friend  had  retired  to 
the  bridge  table  in  the  bay  window,  where  the  man 
of  law  explained  and  expatiated  upon  certain  busi- 
ness interests  of  which  his  correspondence  treated. 
Now  and  again  Lloyd's  eyes  wandered  to  the  ve- 
randah outside  where  Lucia  and  Ruth  were  rapidly 
walking  to  and  fro  in  the  sunshine,  their  sheer, 
crisp,  white  skirts  waving  in  the  speed  of  their  mo- 
tion and  their  chilly  hands  tucked  under  their 
elbows  in  the  sleeves  of  their  blue  and  red  boleros. 
Jardine  noticed  that  they  smiled  graciously  upon 
the  two  gentlemen  in  the  bay-window  as  they 
passed.  They  came  in  presently,  all  aglow,  an- 
nouncing their  intention  to  make  up  a  party  for 
the  bowling  alley. 

"  Mamma  says  the  ground  is  too  damp  for  ten- 
nis," pouted  Ruth,  glancing  at  Jardine,  expectant 
of  partisanship  and  counsel. 

He  had  been  saying  to  himself  bitterly  that 
it  was  not  his  capacity  for  self-sacrifice  in  Lucia 
Laniston's  interests  that  was  limited,  but  the  pos- 
sibilities. Her  aunt  had  been  present  throughout 
the  scene  of  the  disclosure  of  identity  and  other- 
wise knew  as  much  of  the  man  as  he  did,  for  his 

379 


The  Windfall 

suspicions  could  not  have  been  safely  suggested, 
and  he  had  no  means  of  proving  their  truth.  He 
was  amazed  to  find  that  his  anger  against  Lucia 
Laniston,  his  disapproval  of  her  headstrong  folly, 
had  not  diminished  the  strength  of  his  attachment, 
for  the  qualities  she  had  displayed  throughout  the 
Street  Fair  episode  were  precisely  the  traits  with 
which  he  had  least  sympathy — unconventionality, 
girlish  impetuosity*,  a  lack  of  solid  judgment,  a 
flighty  fun  that  no  sane  man  could  enjoy,  a  wild 
relish  of  fantastic  novelty,  and  the  evening  of  their 
return  a  flout  at  a  friendly  monition  and  a  defiant 
persistence  in  her  own  course.  He  loved  her,  it 
was  clear,  and  he  had  an  infinite  patience  where  she 
was  concerned. 

He  merely  bowed  with  silent  acquiescence  in  the 
proposition  to  wile  away  the  time  with  tenpins, 
but  Mrs.  Laniston  broke  out  with  inexorable 
negation. 

"  No — no  bowling  alley  to-day.  The  roof  leaks 
like  a  riddle  and  the  building  is  sopping  with  damp- 
ness and  as  chilly  as  a  vault.  What  are  you  two 
thinking  of?" 

Lucia's  countenance  clouded  with  disappoint- 
ment. 

11  We  can't  sit  moping  by  the  fire  all  this  mag- 
nificent day,  Aunt  Dora,"  she  plained. 

For  his  life  Jardine  could  not  refrain  from  com- 
ing to  the  rescue. 

11  What  do  you  say  to  a  brisk  gallop  in  the  sun- 
shine?   The  horses  are  in  fine  fettle." 

380 


The  Windfall 

11  The  very  thing!  "  cried  Ruth. 

"I  just  live  for  the  saddle!"  declared  Lucia, 
beaming  with  pleased  anticipation. 

11  What  a  help  he'll  be  to  Mrs.  Jardine  (when 
he  finds  her)  in  making  up  her  mind!  "  said  Ruth, 
in  explanatory  wise  to  Lucia. 

"  How  astonished  Mrs.  Jardine  will  be  (when 
he  finds  her)  at  the  way  he  can  hit  it  off  when  he 
does  let  himself  go!"  said  Lucia,  in  an  affected 
aside  to  Ruth. 

Jardine  laughed  with  genuine  good  humour.  It 
had  been  so  long  since  he  had  encountered  this  fic- 
tion of  "  Mrs.  Jardine  "  that  he  was  heartily  glad 
to  hear  of  her  again,  and  was  disposed  to  think 
them  and  their  ingenuity7  in  manufacturing  her 
views  very  fetching. 

11  Shall  I  have  your  saddle  put  on  Admiration?  " 
he  asked  of  Lucia,  for  two  of  the  horses  were  his; 
the  affection  of  the  liver  which  he  had,  or  fancied 
he  had,  was  presumed  to  be  benefited  by  horse- 
back exercise,  and  as  Mr.  Jardine  had  no  affinity 
for  martyrdom  he  had  brought  his  own  excellent 
mounts  with  him.  On  occasions  like  this  he  sacri- 
ficed his  own  pleasure  and  rode  an  animal  from  the 
livery  stable  which,  however,  kept  very  passable 
stock,  especially  since  the  hard  driving  and  riding 
of  the  season  were  over  and  the  horses  had  had 
time  to  recuperate. 

11  Oh,  do,  Lucia,"  cried  Ruth.  "  I'm  afraid  of 
Admiration.  He's  dear,  but  he  dances  so  on  his 
hind  legs." 

38i 


The  Windfall 

"  He's  perfectly  safe,"  said  Jardine,  "  only  a 
little  spirited." 

"  And  so  fast !    I  lo-o-ve  him !  "  declared  Lucia. 

"And  will  you  have  the  mare,  Rosabel?"  he 
asked  Ruth,  respectfully. 

"  Oh — won't  I,  though !  "  she  said,  dimpling. 

"  And  the  rest  of  us  will  have  to  put  up  with  the 
livery  stable  nags,"  said  Frank,  oblivious  of  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Jardine  had  not  invited  him  to  join 
the  party;  indeed  Jardine  had  contemplated  taking 
the  two  girls  on  a  decorous  morning  canter,  riding 
a  livery  stable  nag  between  the  two,  and  had  by 
no  means  proposed  an  equestrian  party.  Still,  the 
suggestion  had  grown  out  of  the  taboo  of  tenpins 
and  tennis,  and  it  was  natural,  with  his  cubbish 
facility  for  blundering,  that  Frank  should  not  think 
the  project  at  all  exclusive.  Indeed,  the  idea  that 
it  was  to  be  a  general  outing  of  the  youth  of  the 
place  was  shared  by  others  as  well,  and  one  of  the 
elderly  gentlemen,  the  broker  from  New  Orleans, 
turned  with  a  sudden  inspiration  to  Lloyd,  who  had 
completed  his  business  with  Dalton  and  now 
waited  to  pass  through  the  group. 

"  Let  me  warn  you  against  the  livery  nag.  I 
have  an  extra  good  saddle  horse  here,  and  shall  be 
much  complimented  to  put  you  up." 

He  had  been  greatly  attracted  by  the  young  fel- 
low's face  and  manner;  besides  Lloyd  might  be 
soon  seeking  investment  for  his  money,  and  there 
was  no  telling  when  he  would  want  to  buy  or  sell 

382 


The  Windfall 

stocks.  Fair  words  go  as  far  in  the  brokerage 
business  as  any  other. 

Jardine  was  amazed  and  incensed  at  Lloyd's 
ready  acceptance,  and  the  broker,  turning  to  the 
telephone,  was  the  first  to  cry  "  Hello  "  to  the 
livery  stable. 

It  seemed  a  fate,  the  most  mischievous  of  com- 
plications, that  Jardine's  effort  to  save  his  lady- 
love the  ennui  of  a  dull  day  should  presently  place 
her  beside  the  man  of  all  others  whom  he  wished 
her  to  avoid — handsomer  than  ever  in  correct 
equestrian  costume — "  possibly  his  gear  as  a  ring- 
master," Jardine  thought,  with  a  sneer — and  rid- 
ing like  a  centaur.  The  broker's  horse  was  a 
stylish,  well-bred  brute,  and  his  very  proximity 
seemed  to  stimulate  Admiration  to  sudden  bursts 
of  competitive  speed.  Both  mounts  were  hard  to 
hold,  and  Lucia  had  never  seemed  half  so  beautiful, 
so  spirited.  Her  dark-green  riding-habit  enhanced 
her  fairness.  She  wore  the  regulation  high  stiff 
silk  hat  on  her  fluffy  brown  hair,  with  a  shimmer- 
ing white  silken  veil  twisted  half  about  it,  and  half 
about  her  throat.  Her  high  white  collar  and  shirt 
front  in  their  mannish  effect  and  a  dark-red  four-in- 
hand  tie  were  her  special  pride.  Her  airy  poise 
on  the  side-saddle  seemed  to  Lloyd  infinite  temerity 
and  a  great  sacrifice  to  feminine  bondage  in  con- 
vention, for  he  was  accustomed  to  see  "  lydies  " 
ride  cross-saddle,  but  she  appeared  to  have  much 
confidence,  and  maintained  a  secure  seat.     Erect 

383 


The  Windfall 

and  fearless  she  now  and  again  looked  over  her 
shoulder  to  invite  Ruth's  bright-eyed  sympathy 
from  the  distance.  For  Rosabel  could  not  canter 
in  the  same  class;  sleek  and  gentle  and  fleet  enough, 
she  was  ideal  for  a  lady's  use,  and  Jardine  jogged 
on  his  hired  nag  beside  her.  Jardine  had  jock- 
eyed, as  one  may  say,  to  throw  Lloyd  with  Ruth 
Laniston,  and  himself  join  the  two  ahead.  But 
Lloyd  had  taken  his  place  beside  Lucia's  rein, 
and  persistently  kept  it.  Frank  was  soon  losing 
ground.  He  could  not  maintain  the  pace,  and  Jar- 
dine presently  to  his  immeasurable  chagrin  found 
the  brother  and  sister  beside  him  while  the  fleeter 
steeds  carried  the  couple  ahead  on  and  on — out  of 
sight. 

For  a  time  neither  drew  rein;  the  sandy  road, 
beaten  hard  by  the  late  storm,  was  ideal.  The 
foliage  of  the  forest  trees  all  along  the  vast  slopes 
was  freshly  washed  and  resplendent.  The  illumi- 
nated yellow  of  the  maples  and  hickories  might  have 
dispensed  with  the  sun  in  its  wonderful  clarity  of 
tone;  it  seemed  to  glow  with  inherent  light.  The 
red  of  the  sourwood  and  the  sumach  and  the 
scarlet  oak  contrasted  richly.  Down  in  the  valleys, 
glimpsed  whenever  the  road  skirted  the  mountain's 
verge,  one  could  see  that  the  deciduous  trees  were 
still  green,  but  on  these  lofty  levels  no  foliage 
showed  verdant  save  the  fir  and  the  pine.  The 
wind  itself  seemed  hardly;  more  swift  than  the 
racing  steeds;  the  clouds,  dazzlingly  white  above 
the  endless  blue  ranges,   challenged  their  speed, 

384 


The  Windfall 

scudding  before  the  high  aerial  currents  above 
even  the  bare  domes,  the  "  balds  "  of  the  moun- 
tains. 

Now  and  then  as  the  riders  skirted  a  precipice 
they  caught  sight  of  a  swift  torrent,  leaping  down 
the  mountain  side,  in  cataract  after  cataract.  Once 
Lloyd  checked  his  horse  to  mark  how  the  great 
vine  that  climbed  from  among  the  roots  of  a  giant 
poplar  on  the  slope  below  to  its  topmost  branch, 
was  laden  with  grapes;  on  a  level  with  the  road  sat 
the  cub  of  a  bear  in  their  midst,  feeding  on  the 
fruit,  pausing  to  gaze  at  them  with  a  quaint  ursine 
stare. 

The  horses  snorted  and  sprang  aside,  and  he  laid 
his  hand  on  her  bridle  as  they  passed  along  the 
narrow  precipitous  way.  It  was  somewhat  too 
narrow,  too  precipitous  for  this  breakneck  speed, 
and  perhaps  but  for  his  peculiar  insensibility  to 
danger  in  equine  matters  he  might  earlier  have 
checked  it. 

"  We  had  best  go  slow  along  here,"  he  said. 
"  The  earth  is  soft  with  the  rain,  and  it  might 
cave.  Step  lightly,  my  friend,"  he  addressed  the 
animal.  But  when  they  came  on  good  rock-ribbed 
footing  he  did  not  mend  their  pace. 

"  Yes,  we  will  go  slow,"  she  said,  "  and  wait 
for  the  others."* 

"  I  don't  care  for  them  to  overtake  us,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  something  in  mind  I  want  to  say  to 
you." 

She  looked  confused,  agitated.     Her  flush  rose 

385 


The  Windfall 

to  the  roots  of  her  hair.  She  turned  upon  him  her 
beautiful  eyes — was  it  appeal  or  was  it  a  gentle  com- 
passion that  looked  out  at  him  inscrutably.  Then 
she  turned  them  hastily  away. 

"  Don't  say  it,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Don't  say 
it!" 

"  You  know  already  what  it  is — and  why  should 
I  not  speak?    You  want  to  spare  me?" 

She  made  a  gesture  of  assent. 

"  I  am  not  very  easy  hurt;  that's  one  value  of 
the  hard  knocks  I've  had;  I'm  equal  to  taking  my 
punishment.  I  hardly  hoped — how  could  I?  But 
from  the  moment  I  saw  you  there  on  the  piazza  of 
the  hotel  in  Colbury  I  knew  the  difference  'twixt 
prose  and  poetry.  The  world's  been  set  to  music 
since;  sometimes  it's  sad,  and  sometimes  it's  sweet, 
but  it's  all  singing  rhymes.  I  loved  you  from  the 
minute  I  heard  your  voice — but  I  did  not  begin  to 
say  my  prayers  to  you  till  that  night  in  the  wheel; 
oh,  you  seemed  so  kind,  so  good,  made  in  a  special 
creation,  unlike  all  in  heaven  or  earth — not  an 
angel — 'cause  you  are  a  woman;  not  a  woman — 
'cause  you  are  a  blessed  saint!  Oh,  I  lived  to  see 
you,  and  in  all  my  troubles  I'd  only  have  to  think 
of  you,  and  though  I  never  expected  you  to  speak 
to  me  again  my  heart  would  be  light — light !  " 

He  broke  off  suddenly. 

"  Oh,  I  distress  you ;  "  for  her  head  was  bent 
low  and  he  saw  the  tears  falling  from  her  eyes  on 
her  little  trembling  riding  gloves.  "  And  you  are 
so  kind;  you  wanted  to  spare  me." 

386 


The  Windfall 

"No,"  she  said,  suddenly,  brokenly;  "  I  wanted 
to  spare  myself,  for,  oh — oh,  I  care  as  much  as 
you — and  more ;  more!  " 

She  could  not  look  at  him,  but  she  knew  that  his 
face  was  irradiated. 

"  Then — why — why  can't  we  be  happy  to- 
gether?   Say  it  again!    I  can't  believe  it!  " 

"  No — no "      She    was    calming    herself, 

sorry  and  dismayed  that  she  had  said  aught.  She 
had  lost  her  self-control,  and  was  struggling  hard 
for  composure. 

"  You  mean  that  your  friends  would  object?  I 
would  not  have  spoken  a  word,  but  for  this  change. 
I  told  you  that  if  I  had  a  chance  for  life  on  a  bet- 
ter scale  I'd  take  it.  I  have  the  means  to  make 
your  life  comfortable;  I  could  not,  I  would  not 
have  asked  you  to  make  any  sacrifice.  Ought  you 
to  let  your  friends  prevent  our  marriage  if  you  care 
- — if  you  really  care?  " 

"  It  is  impossible — the  sorrow  of  my  life,  but 
impossible!  "      He  gave  a  sigh  of  perplexity. 

"  You  think  I  am — or  rather  my  life  has  made 
me — so  unacceptable?  " 

"  I  am  so  artificial,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  should  not 
be  easily  contented." 

She  thought  of  the  little  six-room  house  just 
across  the  swamp  and  beyond  the  bayou,  near  her 
aunt's  handsome  country  place  in  Louisiana,  and 
tried  to  see  herself  there — in  a  rocking-chair  on  the 
porch,  or  planting  seeds  in  the  turfed,  star-shaped 
flower  beds. 

387 


The  Windfall 

"  You  are  no  more  artificial  than  a  lydy  of  cul- 
chure  should  be,"  he  asseverated.  Then  ensued 
a  long  pause  during  which  she  glanced  at  him  as, 
with  a  frown  of  doubt  and  perplexity,  he  looked 
far  away  at  the  horizon  line,  and  she  winced  to 
note  his  grace  and  perfect  pose  in  riding,  realising 
the  tawdry  life  which  this  apotheosis  of  equestrian- 
ism comprehended  and  represented. 

"  If  you  care,"  he  said,  "  and  God  bless  you  for 
the  word,  will  we  be  happy  apart?  " 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  "  she  said,  with  a  gush  of  tears. 
"  A  great  joy  has  knocked  at  my  door,  and  I  can't 
open  to  it,  but  must  bar  up,  and  draw  the  bolts, 
and — how  can  I  be  happy?  " 

He  turned  in  the  saddle  and  looked  sternly  at 
her. 

"  Are  you  promised — to — another?  That  Mr. 
Jardine,  perhaps?  " 

She  rejoiced  to  see  the  fires  of  jealousy  fiercely 
kindling  in  his  eyes.  She  burst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter. 

"  Oh,  poor  Mr.  Jardine,"  she  cried.  "  To  be 
jealous  of  poor  Mr.  Jardine!  " 

"  Then,  why — why — ?"  he  asked  impatiently. 

"  Can't  you  see  that  there  would  be  no  happi- 
ness for  us  together?  We  are  of  different  worlds. 
I  couldn't  endure  to  see  you  give  up  your  standards 
— and  yet  I  could  not  abide  them.  The  distance 
between  us  would  widen,  not  close.  I  have  no  in- 
stincts for  the  simple  life,  and  you  would  have  no 
interest  in  the  artificial." 

38S 


The  Windfall 

Once  more  the  dark  and  dreary  little  farm- 
house came  within  her  mental  range  of  vision. 

"  You  would  not  know  what  I  relinquished,  nor 
I  what  you  sigh  for.  You  keep  up  your  connection 
with  your  roving  company  for  their  benefit,  and 
I  honour  you  for  your  generosity — but  I  would 
prefer  a  more  selfish  man,  with  more  regard  for  the 
sneer  of  the  world." 

"  And  you  care  for  that — the  sneer  of  the 
world?"  * 

"  The  world  would  think  I  had  quite  thrown 
myself  away." 

"  H-a-rdly — ha-a-rdly.  The  world  noses  out  a 
little  money  mighty  quick!  " 

"  All  your  training,  won  with  such  pain  and  toil, 
is  something  I  can't  appreciate;  tawdry  and  odious 
with  a  personal  application,  a  stumbling-block  and 
an  offence  to  me;  and  all  I  have  been  taught  and 
have  striven  for  is  beyond  your  ken." 

"  All  I  know  is  I  love  you;  and  all  I  care  for 
is  that  you  have  said  you  love  me!  "  he  declared 
resolutely. 

"  And  I  should  never  have  said  it,  but  I  have  a 
confidence  in  you  beyond  my  faith  in  any  other 
mortal.  I  wanted  you  to  know  it,  and  keep  it  hid- 
den in  your  heart,  though  we  part  forever." 

"  For  my  life  I  can't  see  why." 

"  It  will  be  bitter,  but  that  knowledge  will  help 
us  to  live  through  it." 

"  Oh,  we  will  live  through  it — like  the  sur- 
vivors live  through   death.     The  sun   shines   on 

389 


The  Windfall 

graves  all  over  the  world,  but  the  mourners  go 
about  the  streets." 

She  burst  into  sobbing  again,  holding  up  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  Suddenly  she  lifted  her 
head. 

"They  are  coming — they  are  coming!  Do  I 
look  as  if  I  had  been  crying?  Oh,  I  don't  want 
them  to  know — it's  like  a  sacrilege  for  them  to 
know!  There!  there  is  a  man  coming  along 
that  path.  What  is  that  in  his  hand?  Let  us  ride 
forward  and  stop  him,  as  if  we  had  been  question- 
ing him." 

She  drew  the  white  gauze  veil  over  her  tearful 
eyes,  and  her  cheeks  all  pallid  from  weeping,  and 
together  they  rode  forward  to  hail  the  mountain- 
eer who  had  stopped  stock  still  on  beholding  them. 
And  from  the  long  reaches  of  the  road,  like  the 
footsteps  of  approaching  doom,  they  heard  the 
iterative  tramp  of  hoofbeats,  every  moment  grow- 
ing louder. 


390 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

A  S  the  distanced  equestrian  party  came  within 
/-\  view  of  the  two  in  advance  they  perceived 
-*-  -*•  that  Lloyd  was  riding  forward  toward  a 
young  mountaineer  who  stood  at  gaze  in  the  path 
which  intersected  the  somewhat  more  definitely 
marked  main  road.  They  could  hear  Lloyd's 
cheery,  vibrant  voice  as  he  called  out  to  him: 

"  Where  does  this  road  lead?  " 

The  man  responded  in  somewhat  surly  wise, 
eyeing,  gloweringly,  the  dashing  apparition  of  the 
young  horseman,  springing  up  so  suddenly  in  the 
midst  of  the  woods,  for  Lloyd's  appearance,  thus 
well  mounted,  was  doubly  effective. 

"  Why — it  jes'  leads  round  an'  round  about  'n 
the  mountings."  He  spoke  as  if  constrained  to 
elucidate  a  self-evident  proposition.  His  large 
brown  eyes,  which  had  a  special  lustre  of  surface, 
not  depth,  seemed  vaguely  familiar,  and  somehow 
inimical,  to  Lloyd,  who  started  as  he  heard  Lucia 
speak,  although  her  voice  was  too  restrained  to 
reach  the  mountaineer's  ears. 

"  Look,  look !  it  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  ours," 
said  Lucia,  wheeling  her  horse  to  accost  the  lag- 
gards in  the  rear.  "  It's  Diogenes.  Don't  you 
see  the  lantern  in  his  hand?    It's  Diogenes !   What 

391 


The  Windfall 

distinguished  people  one  does  meet  in  the  Great 
Smoky  Mountains!  " 

The  young  mountaineer  shifted  his  gaze  to  the 
approaching  group  for  an  instant  only;  then  he 
fixed  his  intent  eyes  once  more  on  Lloyd's  face. 

He  was  a  fine  type  of  his  class,  well  built,  tall, 
with  a  peculiarly  trig,  trim  effect.  He  wore  no 
coat,  and  his  shirt  of  blue  homespun  showed  how 
slim,  yet  muscular,  was  his  body,  and  his  long 
boots,  drawn  to  the  knee  over  his  trousers  of  blue- 
jeans,  encased  legs  of  which  every  movement  sug- 
gested activity.  He  had  a  large  brown  hat,  the 
brim  in  front  turned  up,  and  showing  a  jagged, 
ill-cut  fringe  of  hair  that  resembled  an  old  fashion 
of  ladies'  coiffure,  called  a  "  bang."  He  was  as 
surly,  as  ill-conditioned,  as  unattractive  of  aspect 
as  a  panther;  his  handsome  traits  appealed  as 
little  to  one's  liking. 

Lucia's  airy,  debonair  manner  bespoke  the  blith- 
est spirits.  "  Oh,  joy!  Diogenes  is  looking  for 
you,  Mr.  Jardine.  His  quest  is  successful  at  last. 
You  are  the  honest  man !  You  know  it  must  be 
you,  for  we  are  all  aware  how  politic  poor  Frank 
is." 

For  the  first  time  Mr.  Jardine  deigned  to  men- 
tion Lloyd.  Heretofore  he  would  not  so  much 
as  glance  at  him.  But  he  could  not  resist  convert- 
ing her  pleasantry  into  a  slur,  and  barbing  the  point. 
"  And  is  not  Mr.  Lloyd  a  competitor  for  distinc- 
tion as  an  honest  man?    Am  I  alone?" 

Lloyd  discerned  the  acrid  taunt  in  the  smooth 
392 


The  Windfall 

tones  and  flashed  a  fierce  glance  into  Mr.  Jardine's 
bland  and  smiling  countenance. 

"  Oh,  my,  no,"  exclaimed  Lucia  unexpectedly. 
"  How  can  you  ask?  Didn't  Mr.  Lloyd  fake  up 
Wick-Zoo  as  a  wild  man — shall  I  ever  cease  to 
shiver  when  I  think  of  his  blood-curdling  howls — 
when  he  is  really  as  tame  as — as — as  you?  And 
didn't  Mr.  Lloyd  make  out  that  he  was  nobody 
much,  and  nothing,  when  he  is  the  grandson  of 
Judge  Clarence  Jennico  Lloyd,  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  jurists  of  the  day,  and  is  a  representa- 
tive of  one  of  the  oldest  and  best  families  in  the 
South.  Oh,  Diogenes  wouldn't  light  his  lantern 
to  examine  such  a  patent  fraud  as  we  have  discov- 
ered Mr.  Lloyd  to  be." 

Jardine's  thin  cheek  was  flushed,  but  his  tact 
enabled  him  to  carry  off  the  "  slugging,"  as  Lucia's 
retort  featured  itself  in  Lloyd's  triumphant  con- 
sciousness, as  jauntily  as  a  man  well  could. 

"  But  really  why  is  he  going  about  here  in  the 
sunshine  with  that  lantern  in  his  hand?  "  Jardine 
pressed  his  horse  forward,  and  spoke  to  the  moun- 
taineer. "  What  are  you  doing  with  that  lantern, 
my  man?  " 

The  mountaineer  turned  his  head  slowly  and 
looked  up  at  Jardine  with  so  sinister  an  expression 
of  countenance  that  Ruth  was  moved  to  a  subtle 
affright. 

"  Why  does  Mr.  Jardine  speak  so — so  dis- 
courteously to  an  inferior?"  she  said  discon- 
tentedly. 

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The  Windfall 

"  Because  he  is  that  kind  of  hairpin,"  said  Frank 
lucidly. 

"Well,  it  isn't  nice;  mamma  always  insists  on 
special  politeness  to  humble  folk." 

"  You  will  have  a  harder  hunt  than  Diogenes,  if 
you  look  for  mamma's  precepts  and  practice  in 
general  action,"  said  the  loyal  Frank. 

There  was  something  so  incongruous  with  the 
inimical,  tigerish  glow  in  the  mountaineer's  eyes, 
and  the  youth  and  comeliness  of  his  face,  that  his 
sharp  retort  seemed  whetted  to  an  edge. 

"  Doin'  with  it?     Totin'  it — can't  ye  see?" 

Frank  laughed  out  gaily,  with  an  applausive 
cadence.  "  But  why,  partner?  You  understand 
that  we  are  from  the  New  Helvetia  Springs — 
strangers — going  around  to  see  what  we  can  see, 
and  we  are  asking  a  million  questions  of  anybody 
that  will  have  patience  to  answer  them.  And  we 
can't  make  out  any  good  reason  for  you  to  carry 
that  lantern  out  here  on  this  sunlit  mountain." 

One  might  think  it  impossible  to  look  at  Frank's 
gay,  pink,  dimpled  face  and  not  be  mollified.  But 
the  lowering,  glum  disaffection  of  the  yokel's  ex- 
pression remained  unmitigated.  He  continued 
silent,  vouchsafing  no  response,  while  his  eyes  trav- 
elled from  one  to  another  of  the  faces  of  the  group, 
successively  studying  their  lineaments  with  no 
friendly  result.  There  was  a  pause  of  embarrass- 
ment disproportioned  to  the  trifling  cause  that  pro- 
voked it.  To  break  the  awkwardness  a  few  words 
were  interchanged  amongst  the  riders. 

394 


The  Windfall 

"  Had  we  not  better  move  on?  "  suggested  Jar- 
dine. 

"  Give  Lucia  a  little  time  to  rest/'  said  Ruth. 
Then  to  Lucia,  "  How  fast  you  must  have  been 
riding!     You  look  pale  with  fatigue." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  tired  at  all,"  said  Lucia,  flushing 
suddenly.  "  You  can  preach  hygiene  nearly  equal 
to  Aunt  Dora.  I'd  be  a  poor  stick  if  that  little 
canter  could  make  me  pale." 

"  Mebbe  thar's  no  use  fur  a  lantern  on  top  the 
mounting,"  the  mountaineer  spoke  so  suddenly 
that  more  than  one  of  the  group  started  in  sur- 
prise. "  But  how  about  the  inside  o'  the  mounting 
— ain't  much  sunlight  thar." 

11  What!  a  cave?  "  Frank  asked  interested. 

The  mountaineer  nodded.  His  face  now  had  a 
slow,  pondering  expression.  He  was  evidently 
following  out  a  line  of  intricate  introspection. 
When  he  looked  up  again,  he  seemed  a  different 
creature. 

"  Finest  cave  you  uns  ever  seen,"  he  said.  The 
gleam  of  his  white  teeth  gave  his  face  an  unex- 
pected geniality.  "  It's  all  plumb  white  inside, 
an'  shines  powerful  in  the  light  of  the  lantern. 
Thar  ain't  a  room  at  the  New  Helveshy  Springs 
ez  fine,  nor  in  the  hotel  at  Colbury,  nuther." 

These  instances  expressed  the  limits  of  his  com- 
prehension of  magnificence,  but  the  incongruity 
passed  unremarked  in  the  interest  of  his  disclosure. 
Ruth  and  Lucia  instantly  began  to  clamour. 

"  Oh,  couldn't  we  go  to  see  it?  "  one  cried. 
395, 


The  Windfall 

"  Oh,  what  a  novelty!  "  exclaimed  the  other. 

"Is  it  far?"  asked  Lloyd,  a  little  doubtfully. 

The  man's  eyes  had  been  so  charged  with  ran- 
cour, with  a  sense  of  burning  wrath  as  he  had  en- 
countered their  gaze,  that  Lloyd  had  been  reluctant 
in  the  presence  of  ladies  to  elicit  words  from  him. 
Lloyd  could  not,  of  course,  imagine  any  reason 
for  this,  save  the  unassuaged  hatred  that  the  poor 
of  a  certain  type  entertain  for  the  presumably 
rich  and  favoured,  without  regard  to  individuals 
or  circumstances.  But  the  reply  was  as  suave 
and  courteous  as  the  man's  limitations  rendered 
possible.  "  Thar  air  two  openings  ter  it.  One's  a 
mile  away,  but  thar's  another  clost  by.  I  never 
know'd  about  it  till  one  day  las'  spring.  I  war 
huntin'  hyarabouts,  an'  viewed  a  dark  hole 
'mongst  some  rocks,  an'  crope  in.  I  fund  the  place 
was  a  part  of  a  cave  I  knowed  afore.  The  door 
ter  it  is  ever  yander  nigh  the  valley.  I  hed 
some  matches  in  my  pocket,  but  I  was  feared  ter 
trest  'em  fur.  So  I  fetched  a  lantern,  an'  went 
plumb  through  ter  the  other  eend.  It's  a  s'prisin' 
sight." 

"  Could  you  guide  us  in  a  little  way — so  that 
the  ladies  might  see  something  of  it — what  is  best 
worth  seeing?"  said  Lloyd.  "We  will  pay  you 
for  your  trouble,  and  your  loss  of  time." 

The  mountaineer  was  standing  near  the  show- 
man's horse;  he  cast  up  his  eyes  reflectively,  and 
presumably  named  a  sum  of  money,  for  Lloyd 
replied : 

39^ 


The  Windfall 

"  That  seems  pretty  stiff,  but  we  will  pay  you 
that,  if  you  have  enough  candle,  or  oil;  let  me 
see?  "  and  he  took  the  grimy  lantern  gingerly  be- 
tween his  gloves. 

Jardine,  tingling  with  irritation,  was  constrained 
once  more  to  address  Lloyd  directly.  Frank 
Laniston,  he  said  to  himself,  was  such  a  boy,  so 
plastic  to  every  impulse,  that  he  could  do  more, 
perhaps,  by  allying  himself  with  this  man. 

"  Don't  you  think  this  rather  risky?  "  he  asked 
distantly. 

"  I  can't  judge  without  investigating,"  Lloyd 
replied,  with  that  quiet  dignity  which  accorded  so 
ill  with  his  bizarre  profession.  "  I  thought  I 
might  go  in  the  cave  a  reasonable  distance  with 
the  guide,  and,  if  it  seems  safe  and  worth  while, 
the  ladies  might  venture  a  short  excursion." 

"  Why  surely,  Mr.  Jardine."  Even  the  ultra- 
amiable  Ruth  had  reached  the  point  of  irritation 
expressed  by  emphasis. 

"What  could  be  more  reasonable?"  said 
Lucia,  also  with  the  countenance  of  reproach. 

Mr.  Jardine  often  felt  at  these  crises  that  such 
a  degree  of  popularity  as  he  enjoyed  with  them 
was  hardly  worth  conserving,  but  he  made  many 
sacrifices  to  prevent  its  impairment,  and  he  was 
glad  now  of  an  opportunity  to  recede  grace- 
fully. 

"  That's  a  very  good  idea.  I  had  not  thought 
of  a  reconnoitering  expedition." 

They  set  out  at  a  moderate  pace,  to  enable  their 
397 


The  Windfall 

guide  to  keep  abreast  of  the  horses.  The  direc- 
tion necessitated  a  divergence  from  the  main  road, 
a  circumstance  which  aroused  in  Mr.  Jardine  a 
degree  of  anxiety  and  suspicion.  He  looked  about 
him  sharply,  fixing  landmarks  as  well  as  he  might 
in  his  recollection — the  situation  of  a  great  dome, 
the  horizontal  summit  of  a  range,  a  high  precipi- 
tous cliff,  looking  far  away  over  a  hundred  minor 
ridges  and  valleys,  a  green  abyss  intervenient 
among  steep  slopes,  as  dank,  as  lush,  as  luxuriantly 
leafy  as  if  summer  had  fled  for  hiding  in  this 
lonesome  dell.  But  the  incidents  of  the  way  were 
repetitious;  he  could  not  have  discriminated  the 
difference  in  the  outlook  now  before  his  eyes,  and 
the  one  which  a  sudden  turn  had  served  to  oblit- 
erate. The  path  grew  more  narrow,  less  distinctly 
marked;  it  was  necessary  to  proceed  in  single  file, 
so  closely  did  the  dense  rhododendron  boughs  press 
upon  the  dim  outline  of  a  trail.  Presently  all 
outlook  was  shut  off  by  the  redundant  evergreen 
growth,  almost  meeting  above  their  heads,  the  jun- 
gle of  indefinite  extent,  and,  but  for  this  slender 
line  betokening  a  foot-passage,  impenetrable.  Jar- 
dine  was  as  courageous  as  a  reasonable  man  need 
be,  but  he  felt  as  if  he  had  been  foolhardy  when 
he  considered  the  down-looking,  ill-conditioned 
aspect  of  their  guide — like  that  of  an  implacable 
and  surly  cur — the  fact  of  his  gold  watch,  and 
those  of  his  companions,  the  diamonds  on  the 
daintily  gloved  hands  of  the  ladies,  the  well-filled 
purses  of  the  men.     They  were  indeed  easy  vie- 

398 


The  Windfall 

tims  to  highwaymen  in  this  remote  and  inaccessi- 
ble wilderness,  and  he  wondered  futilely  how  he 
could  have  so  submitted  his  judgment  to  a  lady's 
unthinking  whim.  As  to  Lloyd's  indifference,  he 
was  a  man  experienced  only  in  towns  and  town 
ways;  he  either  did  not  realise  what  he  might 
be  encountering,  or  he  was  so  used  to  jeopardy  in 
his  fantastic  profession  that  needless  risks  seemed 
the  normal  incidents  of  life. 

Of  all  his  anticipations  Jardine  least  expected  to 
be  led  to  a  veritable  cave,  instead  of  an  ambus- 
cade, and  his  spirits  rose  incalculably  when  the 
voices  of  Lloyd  and  Frank  sounded  in  the  van, 
proclaiming  their  arrival  at  the  spot. 

It  was  a  wild  and  lonely  place;  the  sunshine 
filtered  through  the  red  and  gold  foliage  of  the 
trees  with  a  lucent  glister,  as  through  stained  glass. 
The  rhododendron  jungle  clustered  about,  and 
fenced  off  the  world  impenetrably.  A  high  slope 
on  one  side  was  bestrewn  with  gigantic  boulders; 
great  fragments  of  a  fractured  cliff  towered  above, 
and  amongst  them  was  a  vertical  crevice  of  irregu- 
lar shape,  some  eight  feet  in  height.  It  looked 
black,  uninviting,  sinister;  but  there  were  moss- 
grown  ledges  hard  at  hand,  and  a  dimpling,  swirl- 
ing rill  ran  down  the  declivity  and  was  lost  in  the 
great  lush  ferns.  A  breath  of  exquisite  freshness 
and  blended  perfumes  pervaded  the  air,  and  a 
steady  current,  outward  set,  was  perceptible  from 
the  mouth  of  the  cave. 

"  The  horses  can  be  picketed  here,  and  doubtless 
399 


The  Windfall 

Mr.  Jardine  will  be  kind  enough  to  look  after  you 
two  while  we  are  gone,"  said  Frank  officiously. 

"  But  why  don't  you  wait  also,"  asked  Mr. 
Jardine,  by  no  means  relishing  the  exclusive  charge 
of  five  fine  horses,  to  swell  the  booty  of  the  high- 
waymen, should  he  be  molested. 

"  Surely  Mr.  Lloyd  does  not  have  to  ascertain 
if  the  excursion  is  safe  for  me,"  said  Frank  bluffly. 
"  Either  you  or  I  have  to  stay  with  the  girls,  and 
I  thought  you  could  entertain  them  best.  They 
know  all  my  patter  from  'way  back." 

"Oh,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  Jardine  frigidly; 
"  with  pleasure." 

Despite  his  irritation,  his  preoccupation,  he  no- 
ticed the  sudden,  acute  disappointment  on  the 
mountaineer's  face.  His  jaw  dropped,  his  fierce 
eyes  stared,  disconsolate,  doubtful;  he  was  all  at 
once  crestfallen,  stumbling,  slow.  Had  he  ex- 
pected only  Lloyd  to  venture  with  him  into  those 
bleak  abysses  ?  Why  should  he  deprecate  the  com- 
pany of  the  stalwart  young  Laniston?  The  in- 
ference was  too  plain — they  made  two  to  one. 
Any  false  dealing,  any  foul  treachery  was  now 
impracticable.  Still  Jardine  could  not  refrain  from 
remonstrating  with  Lloyd,  so  imperative  was  his 
persuasion  of  some  strangely  inimical  element. 

"  Mr.  Lloyd,"  he  said,  with  more  geniality  than 
one  would  have  thought  it  possible  for  him  to  show, 
"  let's  call  this  thing  off.  We  have  made  a  mistake 
— a  serious  mistake  in  contemplating  it.  I  have 
my  reasons  which  I  will  tell  you  without  reserve 

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The  Windfall 

at  our  first  opportunity.  We  will  pay  this  man 
all  the  same,  and  consider  the  money  a  forfeit. 
But  I  beg  of  you — I  am  a  serious  man,  no  trifler — 
let's  call  this  cave  excursion  off,  right  here  and 
now." 

His  appeal  seemed  to  impress  Lloyd,  but  Frank 
Laniston  broke  out  into  his  gruffly  callow  remon- 
stances,  and  the  two  young  ladies  set  up  a  plaintive 
duet  of  reproach. 

"  Lloyd  may  back  out,  if  he  likes,"  said  Frank, 
"  but  I  will  let  no  such  show  as  this  escape  me." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Jardine,  how  you  shilly-shally,"  cried 
Lucia.  "  You  agreed  there  was  no  objection  if 
Mr.  Lloyd  would  reconnoitre  the  place." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Jardine,  how  you  willy-nilly,"  cried 
Ruth.  "  You  will  have  it  that  there's  death  and 
destruction  in  every  earthly  thing  we  propose.  A 
serious  man !    Yes,  as  serious  as  the  grave." 

The  two  girls  flung  about  in  mock  despair,  and 
finally  subsided,  their  arms  interlocked,  on  one  of 
the  mossy  ledges. 

"  I  submit  to  Fate,"  said  Lucia,  "  if  nobody  will 
take  me  in  to  see  this  cave  I  reckon  I  shall  never 
have  another  chance." 

"  I  submit  to  Fate,"  echoed  Ruth.  "  If  no- 
body will  take  me  in  to  see  this  cave  I  shall  try 
to  lead  him  a  life,  the  rest  of  my  natural  exist- 
ence !  " 

And  she  fixed  her  eyes  on  her  brother. 

"  Oh,  come  on,  Lloyd,"  laughed  Frank,  in  his 
gruff,  callow  fashion,     "  It's  up  to  us." 

401 


The  Windfall 

And  he  plunged  toward  the  entrance  of  the 
cavern. 

The  mountaineer  turned  and  looked  at  Jardine 
with  so  insolent  a  triumph,  so  scornful  a  relish,  as 
he  stood  disregarded  and  disconcerted,  that  the 
force  of  his  inchoate  anxieties  and  suspicions  was  re- 
doubled. The  trio  disappeared,  the  lantern  glim- 
mering feebly  in  the  light  of  the  day,  but  casting 
a  stronger  glow  in  the  black  mouth  of  the  cave,  and 
suddenly  shining  like  a  star,  seen  through  a  crevice 
higher  in  the  wall  of  rock. 

Jardine  seated  himself  upon  a  boulder  near  the 
two  young  ladies.  He  lifted  his  hat  to  bare  his 
head  to  the  breeze,  for  the  sun  had  waxed  hot, 
and  he  took  out  his  white  handkerchief  and 
mopped  his  brow  wearily.  He  did  not  lift  his 
lashes,  but  absently  regarded  his  riding-boots,  now 
and  again  flicking  them  lightly  with  the  whip  in 
his  hand.  He  knew  that  the  eyes  of  both  were 
fixed,  beguilingly,  upon  him.  He  was  angry  with 
them,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  be  easily  placated. 
But  he  did  not  evade  their  blandishments. 

"  Don't  you  know,"  said  Ruth  to  Lucia,  "  that 
he  is  just  hoping  and  praying  that  Mrs.  Jar- 
dine (when  he  finds  her)  will  be  like  neither 
of  us." 

"  And  don't  you  know,"  said  Lucia,  in. an  aside 
to  Ruth,  "  that  he  will  just  dedicate  himself  to 
teaching  Mrs.  Jardine  (when  he  finds  her)  not  to 
be  headstrong  and  hard-headed,  as  we  are." 

It  were  churlish  to  resist  their  fantastic  amende, 
402 


The  Windfall 

and  he  raised  his  eyes  with  a  positive  plea  of  anx- 
iety in  them. 

"  If  you  would  only  consider  my  views !  "  he 
urged.  "  If  you  would  but  trust  to  my  larger 
experience !  It  sends  me  frantic  for  you  to  endan- 
ger your  precious  lives.  I  have  done — I  am  willing 
to  do  everything  for  your  pleasure  that  is  safe 
for  you.  I  don't  consider  my  own  taste.  I  love 
to  be  at  your  service.  I  care  for  nothing  so  much 
as  your  happiness.  I  think  I  have  shown  this, 
and  I  ask  in  return  but  one  boon — that  you  do  not 
run  your  precious  selves  into  danger — that " 

But  they  desired  to  hear  no  more  from  him  on 
this  theme. 

"  I  shall  tell  Mrs.  Jardine  (when  he  finds  her) 
that  she  is  not  the  first!"  cried  Ruth,  dimpling; 
"  that  he  made  love  to  both  of  us !  " 

"  The  jealousy  of  Mrs.  Jardine  (when  he  finds 
her)  will  never  know  surcease,  when  she  hears  he 
calls  both  of  us  '  precious,'  "  echoed  Lucia,  with 
mock  solemnity. 

Then  they  collapsed  into  their  silvery  laughter 
as  they  sat  on  the  mossy  ledge,  and  guyed  him. 

His  remonstrances  were  obviously  futile,  but  be- 
fore he  had  time  to  attempt  another  Ruth  spoke, 
suddenly  serious. 

"  You  know  I  have  practised  drawing  faces  so 
much — the  individual  features  from  the  flat,  and 
the  whole  countenance  in  the  life  class — that  I 
have  become  just  dead  letter  perfect  in  the  dis- 
crimination of  human  physiognomy.     I  don't  pre- 

4031 


The  Windfall 

tend  to  discern  character,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing — to  set  up  as  a  second  Lavater — but  a  face 
with  any  distinctiveness  that  I  have  once  seen  I 
recognise  on  a  second  view." 

Jardine  felt  a  sudden  premonition,  as  of  dis- 
covery— a  sudden  inexplicable  sinking  of  the  heart. 
He  looked  at  her  intently  as  she  paused,  leaned 
aside,  plucked  a  tiny  flowering  weed  from  a  niche 
in  the  rock,  and  turned  it  in  her  gauntleted  hands. 
Lucia,  one  elbow  on  the  ledge  behind  her,  gazed 
indifferently  into  the  great  encompassing  stretch 
of  the  woods,  where  in  the  illuminated  air  there 
was  a  continual  wafting  down  of  the  rich,  glinting, 
yellow  leaves. 

"  I  thought  I  knew  that  young  mountaineer  the 
moment  I  saw  him,"  continued  Ruth.  "  And  now 
I  have  placed  the  recollection.  He  is  the  young 
man  who  sat  in  front  of  us  at  the  song  and  dance 
turn,  disguised  as  an  old  man.  I  knew  his  eyes, 
and  that  slight  rise  in  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  break- 
ing the  insipidity  of  contour — very  good  shape." 

Lucia  was  erect,  looking  at  her  with  startled 
eyes.     "  Sure  enough?  "  she  said. 

Ruth  glanced  at  her  with  a  laughing  rebuke 
of  the  slang  phrase.  "  Sure  enough !  "  she  as- 
sented. 

"  Why,  that  man  was  in  the  Ferris  Wheel  that 
night!"  exclaimed  Lucia.  "  And  I  am  morally 
certain  he  slung  a  stone,  or  iron  missile  of  some 
sort,  and  knocked  this  Mr.  Lloyd  out  of  the 
swing.    Why  didn't  you  tell  him?  " 

404 


The  Windfall 

"  It  only  came  to  me  a  moment  ago,"  said 
Ruth.  "  Besides,  you  know  Mr.  Jardine  and  Frank 
thought  that  idea  was  just  our  notion — the  vapour- 
ings  of  semi-idiots." 

She  glanced  with  pink  and  beguiling  smiles  at 
Mr.  Jardine,  expecting  his  complimentary  protest. 
But  he  was  too  seriously  ill  at  ease  to  respond. 
He,  too,  had  realised  the  belated  recognition,  real- 
ising as  well  that  it  was  unconsciously  at  the  root 
of  his  objection  to  the  cave  expedition,  and  his 
strong,  though  undefinable,  uneasiness.  He  was 
thinking  that  if  the  mountaineer  had  had  the 
motive  and  the  venom  to  attack  the  manager,  his 
vindictive  rancour  would  not  have  been  allayed  by 
the  ineffectiveness  of  his  assault.  He  doubtless 
would  make  another  attempt,  and  this  with  his 
unsuspecting  victim  at  his  mercy  in  the  recesses  and 
dangers  of  an  unexplored  cave.  He  remembered 
the  guide's  patent  dismay  when  Frank  Laniston 
joined  the  party,  and  he  began  to  take  comfort 
from  the  fact  that  the  incident  was  evidently  un- 
premeditated, and  that  the  man  was  unable  to  cope 
with  odds.  If  Lloyd  and  Laniston  had  but  the 
discretion  to  keep  together,  as  indeed  they  needs 
must,  for  the  paucity  of  the  means  of  light,  no  dis- 
aster might  befall  them.  True  they  might  be  led 
into  difficult  and  remote  labyrinths  and  left — the 
lantern  extinguished — to  wander  till  they  fell  into 
abysses,  or  perished  with  hunger. 

He  caught  himself  sharply.  What  fantastic 
folly  was  this?    The  whole  theory  was  based  upon 

405 


The  Windfall 

a  girl's  romantic  version  of  a  fall  from  a  foolish, 
mechanical  contrivance — heaven  knows  how  in- 
efficiently constructed — and  a  fancied  resemblance 
to  a  face  seen  only  twice  before,  each  time  in  a 
dim  light,  and  apparently  half  eclipsed  by  a  dis- 
guise. 

He  breathed  more  freely.  He  had  never  before 
had  to  reproach  himself  with  morbidness.  The 
whole  idea  was  doubtless  nonsensical.  Even  if 
it  had  any  foundation  in  fact,  the  party  outside — 
himself  and  the  two  girls — would  be  a  check  on 
treachery  of  any  magnitude.  The  guide  had  not 
means  at  hand  for  such  wholesale  murder  as  the 
destruction  of  the  two  young  men  would  necessi- 
tate; evidently  he  was  not  armed,  or  he  would 
not  have  flinched,  crestfallen  and  dismayed,  when 
the  muscular  Frank  Laniston  had  joined  the  man- 
ager. The  report  of  their  disappearance,  and  a 
search  party  from  the  hotel  and  the  neighbourhood 
might  rescue  them,  if  abandoned  to  the  tortuous 
depths  of  darkness,  or  ascertain  their  fate,  if 
treacherously  misled  into  abysses  and  over  preci- 
pices. Despite  his  careful  reasoning  of  a  moment 
before,  he  had  come  back  to  this  horrible  possi- 
bility. 

Suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet.  Frank  Laniston, 
the  lantern  in  his  hand,  his  blond  hair  damp  and 
limp  over  his  forehead,  his  teeth  chattering  with 
cold,  his  shoulders  shrugging  with  shivers,  plunged 
out  of  the  entrance  with  the  wild  cry: 

"  Come  on!  Hurry  up!  Finest  thing  yet! 
406 


The  Windfall 

Great!  Perfect  palace  of  wonders!  Don't  waste 
a  minute!  " 

He  caught  Lucia  by  the  wrist,  and  she  shivered 
at  the  touch  of  his  cold  hand,  as  he  turned,  and 
together  they  dashed  toward  the  entrance  he  had 
just  quitted. 

"  Stop,  Laniston,  I  want  to  tell  you  something," 
exclaimed  Jardine  insistently. 

"  Some  other  day,"  called  back  Frank,  between 
his  chill  teeth. 

"But  I  must — I  will  speak  to  you!"  began 
Jardine. 

"  I  have  left  that  man  and  Lloyd  in  the  dark, 
waiting.  The  mountaineer  didn't  want  me  to  take 
the  light — said  it  burns  faster  in  motion.  He 
wouldn't  stay  alone — said  he's  afraid  of  harnts 
— ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  And  we  couldn't  make  him  come 
back,  said  it's  bad  luck  to  turn  back.  So  really 
I  can't  stop  to  listen  to  you.  I  can't  leave  them 
there  in  that  awful  blackness  longer  than  I  am 
obliged  to.  If  you  are  coming — come  on!  Follow 
the  lantern !  " 

"  I  insist — I  insist,"  cried  Jardine,  advancing 
with  long  strides  in  their  wake  over  the  rocky 
ground,  finding  it  impossible  to  overtake  them. 
"  I  insist  that  you  do  not  take  Miss  Laniston  !  " 

Frank  was  infinitely  affronted.  He  stopped 
short  and  ceremoniously  referred  the  matter  to 
the  lady. 

"Are  you  coming,  Lucia?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  yes!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  grasping  his 
407 


The  Windfall 

arm,  and  pulling  him  forward.    "  Oh,  don't  stop! 
Let  us  hurry.    Oh,  get  the  light  back !  " 

"Always  the  pluckiest  ever!"  said  Frank. 

They  both  were  running.  Jardine  made  another 
frantic  effort  to  remonstrate  and  stop  them,  as  he 
dashed  after  them. 

"  You  don't  know  about  that  guide!  "  he  called 
out.     "We  think  he  is " 

"  I  will  tell  him!  "  cried  Lucia  over  her  shoul- 
der. "  Don't  stop  him.  He  must  get  the  light 
back!" 

Seeing  the  utter  hopelessness  of  his  effort  Jar- 
dine  desisted,  and  retraced  his  steps  to  the  mouth 
of  the  cave,  where  Ruth  stood  waiting.  Lucia 
did  not  so  much  as  cast  a  glance  backward,  but 
Frank  paused  once  to  look  over  his  shoulder  at 
the  two  in  the  shadow  of  the  rocks. 

"  If  you  two  are  coming,  follow  the  lantern — 
if  not,  you'll  look  after  Ruth,  Mr.  Jardine? 
Thanks,  much." 

Jardine  was  very  doubtful  of  his  best  course. 
If  he  and  Ruth  joined  the  party  none  of  them 
might  ever  be  heard  of  or  seen  again.  Yet  he 
realised  the  value  of  the  strength  in  numbers.  Still 
the  fact  that  two  were  without  the  cave  to  report 
the  disappearance  of  the  others,  should  they  not 
return  after  a  reasonable  interval,  was  a  check  on 
the  possible  malevolence  and  treachery  of  the 
guide. 

"  The  lantern  will  be  out  of  sight,"  Ruth 
pouted.     "Shall  we  follow  them?" 

408 


The  Windfall 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth  I  distrust  that  guide, " 
said  Jardine.  With  women  he  seldom  resorted  to 
candid  speech,  and  an  appeal  to  their  intelligence 
and  judgment.  But  he  resolved  to  be  frank  now, 
though  he  marked  how  her  cheek  paled,  how  her 
eyes  dilated.  "  I  think  that  if  he  has  any  sinister 
intentions  our  remaining  on  guard  here,  so  to 
speak,  will  be  a  check  upon  them.  They  will  be 
rendered  impracticable  for  fear  of  our  report  of 
the  entrance  of  the  party  into  the  cave,  and  their 
failure  or  delay  to  return.  Now  I  propose  that  we 
wait  here,  say,  half  an  hour,  and,  if  we  hear  noth- 
ing of  our  friends  in  that  time,  we  will  mount  our 
horses  and  gallop  for  help  to  New  Helvetia. 
What  do  you  say?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  by  all  means !  But,  oh,  why,  why 
did  we  let  them  go !  " 

"  We  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Jardine  rather  bit- 
terly. He  was  not  wont  to  be  so  frustrated  and 
set  at  naught.  He  was  a  man  of  consideration 
in  the  ordinary  associations  of  life.  Never  had  he 
suffered  such  disparagement  as  at  the  hands  of 
these  youthful  feather-pates. 

"  But  they  will  probably  come  out  all  right," 
he  added,  "  in  a  little  while,  and  you  and  I  will 
have  the  pleasure  of  figuring  as  alarmists  and 
cowards — afraid  of  the  cave." 

"  What  a  wild  country — what  wild  people," 
Ruth  shuddered. 

"  We  will  give  them  half  an  hour,"  suggested 
Jardine,  drawing  out  his  watch  to  consult  it.  "  And 

409 


The  Windfall 

if  they  do  not  rejoin  us  in  that  time  we  will  raise 
the  countryside." 

She  assented  rather  dolorously,  and  sat  down  on 
the  ledge  as  before,  while  Jardine  resumed  his 
place  on  the  boulder,  near  at  hand. 

The  wind  blew  freshly  through  the  odorous 
woods;  the  gold  leaves  shifted  down  in  showers; 
the  crystal  rill  went  purling  over  the  moss,  and,  as 
her  watch  which  she  held  in  her  hand  ticked  away 
the  minutes,  she  looked  eagerly  ever  and  anon  at 
the  dark  crevice-like  entrance  to  the  cave,  listening 
vainly,  hoping  to  hear  her  brother's  boisterous, 
boyish  voice. 


410 


CHAPTER   XIX 

IUCIA,  hurrying  along  beside  Frank  as  he 
sturdily  strode  through  the  gloom,  swing- 
— '  ing  the  lantern  to  and  fro  to  apprise  the 
explorers,  waiting  in  the  darkness,  of  his  approach, 
felt  that  wings  could  hardly  be  swift  enough  to 
convey  to  Lloyd  the  warning  of  his  peculiar  and 
imminent  danger.  And,  yet,  it  might  be  even  now 
too  late!  She  was  appalled  at  the  thought  of  his 
risks  alone  in  the  depths  of  an  unexplored  cavern, 
without  a  light,  without  a  landmark,  without  a  clue 
to  his  station  in  the  subterranean  labyrinth,  his 
only  companion  a  strange,  half-civilised  man,  who 
had  once  already,  at  great  jeopardy  to  himself, 
slyly  and  treacherously  attempted  his  life.  She 
marvelled  at  Lloyd's  foolhardy  temerity,  and  then 
— and  the  thought  redoubled  her  speed — she 
realised  that  he  had  no  vague  intuition  of  the  secret 
of  his  peril,  she  was  sure  that  he  had  not  for  a 
moment  recognised  or  distrusted  his  guide. 

She  hardly  felt  the  chill  of  the  rare  air;  she  cared 
naught  for  the  rough  footing;  now  and  again  she 
stumbled  and  clutched  at  Frank  for  support,  but 
instantly  pressed  on,  unwearied,  fevered,  alert. 

Naught  so  sinister  as  the  unutterable  blackness 
was  ever  presented  to  her  imagination.  She  stared 
wide-eyed  at  the  palpable-seeming  glooms  of  the 
vast  halls,  made  visible  by  the  dim  glister  of  the 

411 


The  Windfall 

little  lantern.  Things  of  evil  omen,  winged,  un- 
seen, whisked  by  her  head;  once  a  bat  struck  her 
full  in  the  face.  The  place  seemed  alive  with  these 
creatures,  and,  now  and  again,  as  she  heard  their 
strange,  uncanny  squeak,  she  started  violently,  all 
her  nerves  jarring. 

"  We  shall  soon  be  beyond  the  bat  zone,  Lucia," 
said  Frank  kindly,  remembering  the  universal 
feminine  horror  of  the  genus. 

His  voice,  so  hearty  and  cheery  in  the  outdoor 
world,  seemed  strangely  hollow,  unnatural  in  this 
environment,  echoing  far  away,  and  coming  anew 
in  a  different  key,  and  startling  her  with  the  con- 
viction of  terrible,  unseen  beings,  conferring  apart 
in  the  unimagined  distance,  speaking  her  name. 

"  Oh,  not  a  word — "  she  whispered,  "  on  your 
life,  not  another  word,"  and  she  clung  to  him  ter- 
rified. 

He  burst  out  with  his  boyish,  rollicking  laughter, 
and  all  the  cavern  was  filled  with  mocking  merri- 
ment, raucous,  horrible,  as  if  the  cachinnation  of 
invisible  fiends  repeated  his  tones,  resounding 
anew,  now  here,  now  there,  now  far  in  advance, 
now  close  behind  them,  and,  even  at  last,  when  all 
seemed  still,  again  an  elfin  mimicry. 

Frank  checked  himself;  he  saw  that  her  terrors 
were  genuine.  The  feminine  ideal  had  always 
figured  in  his  unsentimental  appraisement  as  la 
marplot;  he  was  beginning  to  be  afraid,  from  Lu- 
cia's heavier  drag  on  his  arm,  the  dilation  of  her 
eyes,  the  tremor  in  her  voice,  that  such  courage 

412 


The  Windfall 

as  she  had  summoned  for  the  enterprise  was  already 
failing  her,  and  that  he  would  shortly  be  adjured 
to  turn  about  and  retrace  their  way,  and  restore 
her  to  the  glad  outer  air  and  the  pleasant  surface 
of  the  earth.  He  said  naught  further,  and  when 
she  had  begun  to  fear  that  they  had  missed  the 
trace,  although  he  had  told  her  that  for  a  certain 
distance  there  was  no  break  in  the  right-hand  wall, 
and  they  could  not  go  amiss  as  long  as  they  kept  in 
touch  with  it,  she  heard  a  faint  halloo  in  the  night, 
as  one  might  hear  in  a  dream.  When  Frank  re- 
sponded vociferously,  it  came  anew,  and  stronger 
still. 

Suddenly  she  saw,  across  a  vast  expanse  of  utter 
darkness,  like  the  face  of  the  deep  when  the 
earth  was  without  form  and  void,  the  outline,  as 
it  were,  of  a  promontory  growing  slowly  into  being; 
a  faint  flicker  of  light — it  seemed  star-like  in  con- 
trast with  the  deep  gloom — revealed  two  moving 
creatures  poised  there,  which  she  presently  recog- 
nised as  human  beings.  One,  she  was  sure  that  it 
was  Lloyd,  had  struck  a  match,  and  from  it  had 
kindled  a  bit  of  wood — it  was  his  forlorn  little 
cigar-case  of  imitation  lacquer,  which  he  extrava- 
gantly sacrificed ;  he  expected  to  have  better  things 
after  this!  While  the  stolid  mountaineer  looked 
on,  Lloyd  once  more  called  out  blithely  to  his  ap- 
proaching acquaintances,  and  distinguishing  the 
voice  which  she  had  feared  would  never  sound 
again,  she  burst  into  tears. 

Frank,  all  tingling  with  the  ardour  of  adventure, 

413 


The  Windfall 

with  the  excitements  of  extreme  jeopardy,  with  the 
interest  of  novelty,  felt  a  surge  of  resentment 
toward  her  as  an  inopportune  spoil-sport.  The 
spirit  of  discipline  was  strong  within  him. 

"  Well,  upon  my  word,  Lucia  Laniston,',  he  said 
severely — and  a  hundred  distant  voices  were  re- 
peating, "  Lucia  Laniston!  Lucia  Laniston!" 
while  she  hung  upon  his  arm,  vaguely  flinching 
from  the  echoes  and  seeking  to  stop  her  ears.  "  I'll 
never  take  you  with  me  anywhere  again,  as  long  as 
I  live!  There  is  no  danger.  What  are  you  cry- 
ing for — answer  me  that?  " 

And  the  darkness  conjured  her — "  Answer  me 
that?" 

"Oh,  Frank,"  she  whispered:  she  could  not 
speak  aloud  for  the  echoes — even  the  sibilance  that 
followed  her  words  made  her  now  and  then  shrink 
away  and  look  back.  Then  she  put  both  hands  on 
one  of  his  shoulders,  and  stood  on  tip-toe  to  bring 
her  lips  close  to  his  ear,  "  We  must  look  out  for 
that  mountaineer.  We  have  recognised  him  at  last 
— both  Ruth  and  I.  He  is  the  man  whom  we 
noticed  in  disguise  at  the  concert  where  that  girl 
sang  and  danced,  and  who  afterward  tried  to  kill 
Mr.  Lloyd  in  the  Ferris  Wheel !  " 

"  The  devil  he  is !  "  exclaimed  Frank,  stopping 
short,  disconcerted  and  dismayed. 

"  The  devil  he  is — he  is — he  is — he  is  the 
devil!  "  The  echoes  reiterated  the  words  with  a 
distracting  distinctness,  and  she  put  her  hand  over 
Frank's  lips. 

414 


The  Windfall 

"  The  next  time  you  speak — whisper,"  she  ad- 
monished him.  "  I  expected, — Mr.  Jardine  ex- 
pected that  he  would  kill  Mr.  Lloyd  while  you 
were  gone." 

"  It  must  be  that  he  has  got  no  pistol,"  Frank 
surmised  decisively.  "  And  that's  strange,  for 
these  fellows  all  carry  their  '  shootin'  iron  '  in  the 
leg  of  their  left  boot.  That's  the  only  reason, 
I  dare  swear  By  sheer  strength,  he  couldn't. 
Lloyd  could  throw  him  from  here  to  New  Helvetia. 
He  doubtless  expected  to  take  Lloyd  by  surprise, 
and  suddenly  push  him  over  into  an  abyss,  and 
didn't  get  the  opportunity.  He  saw  enough  of 
athletes  at  the  carnival  to  know  he  would  be  out- 
matched in  a  fair  fight.  Treachery  or  a  pistol  was 
his  only  chance.  But  why  on  earth  did  not  Jardine 
tell  me?" 

"  He  tried — he  tried — but  you  wouldn't  wait  a 
minute — you  wouldn't  hear  a  word." 

Even  in  the  dim  light  Frank's  face  showed  crest- 
fallen, dispirited,  mortified. 

"  I'm  sorry  you  came — but  we  must  make  the 
best  of  it.  See  here,  Lucia,  when  we  join  them,  do 
you  get  close  to  Lloyd  and  very  quietly  tell  him — 
don't  choke  him,  like  you  did  me;  you've  pretty 
near  strangled  me,  clutching  me  by  the  collar  that 
way — but  whisper  the  facts  to  him.  Very  quietly, 
mind  you.  We  mustn't  excite  the  suspicions  of  that 
miscreant.  Our  safety  may  depend  on  his  think- 
ing that  we  do  not  recognise  him.  Let  Lloyd  know, 
and  walk  with  him,  and  I'll  keep  right  along  with 

415 


The  Windfall 

Mister  Mountain-Man.  We  will  only  make  a 
feint  of  seeing  the  cave — just  to  avoid  precipitat- 
ing some  rascality — and  take  the  first  chance  to  get 
out  of  this  as  soon  as  possible. " 

When  they  reached  the  waiting  explorers,  who 
being  without  adequate  light  could  not  come  to 
meet  them,  Lucia  was  no  longer  walking  with  her 
cousin's  arm,  but  following,  as  he  preceded  her, 
swinging  the  lantern.  The  way  had  grown  rough 
and  unequal;  sudden  unexpected  descents  made  the 
walking  difficult  amidst  the  jagged  edges  of  the 
crag  and  fragments  long  ago  fallen  from  the  roof; 
climbing  the  acclivity,  on  which  they  still  stood, 
she  was  now  and  again  fain  to  clutch  at  a  projec- 
tion of  rock  to  assist  her  steps,  and,  although  she 
was  rarely  light  and  active,  and  kept  up  well  with 
Frank's  long  stride,  he  carefully  handled  the  lan- 
tern to  afford  her  all  the  light  possible.  It  seemed 
to  Lloyd,  however,  that  she  needed  more  effective 
assistance,  and,  as  soon  as  their  proximity  made  it 
possible,  he  advanced  to  meet  them,  as  the  crafty 
Frank  had  anticipated,  and  offered  her  his  arm. 
Frank  turned  for  a  moment,  surveying  this  arrange- 
ment, as  if  he  had  not  expected  it;  then,  address- 
ing the  mountaineer,  but  still  keeping  the  lantern 
in  his  own  hands,  he  said  bluffly,  "  Come  on,  old 
Sport — we'll  take  the  lead.  Guide  us  to  that 
marble  palace  we  were  thinking  of  buying  when 
we  turned  back." 

"  It  has  got  marble  palaces  beat  to  a  frazzle," 
Lloyd  chimed  in  enthusiastically. 

416 


The  Windfall 

She  noted  with  a  pang,  half  gratulation,  half 
grief,  that  he  asked  no  questions  as  to  the  others. 
He  had  no  curiosity  as  to  their  reasons  for  de- 
clining the  excursion.  He  seemed  not  even  aware 
of  their  absence — to  him  all  had  come  since  she 
was  here.  She  felt  the  strength  of  his  support,  his 
sure-footed  agility,  and  moved  en  swiftly  and  eas- 
ily on  his  arm.  But  she  could  not,  by  lagging,  find 
an  opportunity  for  her  confidential  whisper.  When 
sharp,  jagged  rocks  intervened  in  the  path,  and 
she  slackened  her  pace,  the  mountaineer  seemed  to 
observe  it  immediately,  and  accommodated  his  gait 
to  theirs,  although,  once  or  twice,  Frank,  forging 
on  with  the  lantern,  the  way  being  obvious,  a  canon- 
like interval,  between  great,  beetling  cliffs,  left 
them  so  far  behind  that  Lloyd  called  a  halt. 

"  Remember  Miss  Laniston,"  he  admonished 
the  youth.  "  You  are  not  walking  for  a  purse." 
Then,  jocularly,  "  That  lantern  is  not  your  per- 
sonal property — it  doesn't  look  well  for  you  to 
make  off  with  it  like  that." 

Somehow,  on  Lloyd's  arm,  Lucia  forgot  to  be 
afraid.  The  terrible  glooms  had  a  certain  grue- 
some picturesqueness  that  no  longer  appalled  her. 
She  could  look  up  into  the  infinite  vaults  of  the 
darkness,  and  her  hope,  her  soul,  no  longer  fainted 
within  her.  The  lantern,  like  a  tiny  star,  lucently 
white,  with  a  rayonnant  halo  about  its  focus, 
showed  vast,  rugged,  crag-shaped  forms  looming 
indistinctly  in  these  undreamed-of  subterranean 
realms,  and  now  the  path  skirted  an  abyss  of  unim- 

417 


The  Windfall 

agined  depth,  and  now  toiled  up  an  ascent,  moun- 
tain-like in  its  vague  immensity,  but  she  had  no 
tremors,  no  thought  of  regret  for  the  bland  outer 
air,  and  the  bliss  of  the  candid  sunshine.  She 
trusted  implicitly  to  him.  She  knew  that  he  was 
ignorant,  all  untrained  mentally,  sadly  neglected, 
hardly  used  by  Fate,  but  she  relied  on  the  inherent 
strength  of  his  judgment,  his  fine,  bright,  native 
intellect,  his  optimism,  his  simple  valiance  in  the 
fight  of  life.  She  did  not  doubt  that  she  would 
have  presently  an  opportunity  to  disclose  the  facts 
to  him,  to  communicate  her  warning,  and  she  was 
sure*  that  he  would  instantly  know  the  best  course 
to  pursue,  and  that  he  would  have  the  courage 
and  the  dexterity  to  make  it  effective.  She  real- 
ised his  high  moral  qualities,  so  rare  in  these  days 
that  they  seemed  like  a  special  gift.  His  unself- 
ishness would  take  due  account  of  her,  of  Frank — 
his  magnanimity  would  even  spare  the  murderous 
mountaineer,  unless,  indeed,  their  safety,  their 
lives  were  the  price  of  his. 

So  restored,  indeed,  were  her  faculties,  that  she 
was  the  first  to  note  the  sudden  responsive  light,  as 
the  far-reaching  gleam  of  the  lantern  struck  out 
the  glitter  of  calc-spar.  "  See  there !  "  she  cried. 
"What  is  that?  " 

"  We  are  coming  again  to  the  palace,  I  do  be- 
lieve," said  Frank,  as  if  surprised. 

"  Wa-al,"  observed  the  surly  guide,  stopping 
short,  "  warn't  ye  lowin'  ez  ye  wanted  ter  go  the 
same  way?     I  kin  show  ye  other  ways — ef  so 

418 


The  Windfall 

be  ye'd  like  ter  travel  'em ;  a  short  cut  ter  no- 
whar." 

Frank  was  conscious  of  having  expressed  unin- 
tentionally, in  his  surprise,  his  lurking  suspicions, 
and  his  answer  was  not  readily  forthcoming.  But 
Lloyd  discriminated  the  note  of  offence  in  the 
guide's  voice,  and  sought  to  re-establish  harmonious 
relations. 

"  That  is  all  right — just  what  we  want  to  show 
the  lydy,"  he  said  cheerily.  "  But  I  don't  call  it 
the  marble  palace,"  he  continued,  addressing  him- 
self directly  to  Lucia;  "  it  is  the  '  Hall  of  Heroes  ' 
— you  will  see  why  directly, — and,  oh,  what  a 
stage-setting  it  would  make." 

Even  now  the  darkness  began  to  shimmer  with 
vague  transient  white  gleams  suggestive  of  appari- 
tions, of  gigantic  human  forms.  At  a  word  from 
the  guide,  Frank  strode  ahead  down  a  steep  de- 
clivity, and,  pausing  at  last,  stood  in  the  centre  of 
an  oval-shaped  apartment,  glimmering  white,  with 
here  and  there  a  sudden  crystalline  sparkle.  The 
lofty  ceiling  rose  above  like  the  interior  of  a  dome. 

The  mountaineer  waited  with  the  other  two,  as 
if  he  felt  that  since  Frank  had  usurped  the  lantern 
he  might  also  assume  the  functions  of  a  cicerone 
and  exhibit  the  wonders  of  the  cave.  Lucia  began 
to  realise  with  a  sinking  heart  that  the  mountain- 
eer having  decoyed  Lloyd  here  for  the  purpose  of 
wreaking  now  his  frustrated  vengeance,  would  not 
for  one  moment  permit  himself  to  be  separated 
from  his  prospective  victim.    She  once  more  grew 

419 


The  Windfall 

anxious  lest  it  would  be  impossible  to  speak  to 
Lloyd  apart,  and  began  to  scheme,  to  devise,  rather 
than  await,  an  opportunity  to  warn  him. 

Young  Laniston,  placed  at  a  disadvantage  which 
he  had  not  anticipated,  although  he  did  not  regret 
his  manoeuvre  to  keep  possession  of  the  precious 
light  on  which  all  their  lives  depended,  hesitated 
for  a  moment — then  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
methods  by  which  the  mountaineer  had  earlier  dis- 
played to  the  explorers  the  beauties  of  the  seques- 
tered place. 

He  took  up  from  the  ground  a  long  pole  with  a 
short  prong  or  fork  at  its  end.  He  lifted  the  lan- 
tern high  on  this,  and  like  a  miracle  the  splendours 
of  the  underground  scene  burst  forth.  The  walls 
were  white  and  sparkled  with  calc-spar.  The 
wondrous  forces  of  nature,  tirelessly  building 
through  the  ages  these  unseen,  unimagined,  weird 
splendours,  were  still  at  work,  and  though  great 
stalactites  hung  down  from  the  lofty  roof  like  a 
hundred  chandeliers,  the  continual  drip  from  these 
ponderous  pendants,  of  the  waters  charged  with 
lime,  had  not  yet  built  up  from  the  floor  the  stalag- 
mites to  form  the  columns  in  which  they  would 
one#day  meet.  These  stalagmites,  now  in  process 
of  development,  had  taken  on  strange,  fantastic 
shapes.  At  the  distance  it  was  like  a  hall  of  glit- 
tering statuary.  Lloyd  pointed  out,  with  all  the 
zest  of  discovery,  the  similitudes  which  his  keen 
imagination  had  discerned  in  the  rugged  rock. 
Now    he    discriminated    a    statesman-like    figure, 

420 


The  Windfall 

erect  upon  a  column,  gigantic,  majestic,  a  scroll  in 
his  hand;  here  a  great,  rugged  pedestal,  where  the 
waters  had  been  received  in  a  wide  depression, 
supported  an  equestrian  soldier  mounted  upon  a 
rearing  charger;  his  fancy  descried  an  aboriginal 
group,  a  warrior — he  was  insistent  on  the  distinct- 
ness of  his  plumed  crest — with  his  tomahawk  up- 
lifted, his  victim  a-crouch  at  his  feet;  he  pointed 
out  Neptune,  on  the  rocks,  his  trident  in  his  hand, 
a  dolphin  sporting  at  his  feet. 

Somehow,  all  the  vanished  wonders  of  the  world 
were  lurking  here,  awaiting  the  magic  touch  of 
imagination  to  give  them  form  and  grace  and  bid 
them  live  anew.  The  mountaineer,  impervious  to 
these  impressions,  walled  up  in  his  limitations, 
seemed  to  listen  stolidly,  uncomprehendingly,  as 
Lloyd,  discoursing  all  unsuspicious,  all  undismayed, 
gaily  discerned  poems  in  the  stones,  and  music  in 
the  dropping  of  the  water,  for  they  could  dis- 
criminate the  sound  of  the  ripple  of  a  rill,  some- 
where in  the  darkness,  from  the  staccato  fall  of 
the  drops  from  the  stalactites,  building  ceaselessly 
the  majestic  architecture  of  the  cavern. 

"  Listen,  listen,"  said  Lloyd  smilingly,  one 
hand  uplifted,  "  was  there  ever  anything  more 
harmonious  than  that  tinkling  interlude  with  its 
appoggiatura  of  drops  that  comes  always  a  'placer e 
after  the  solemn,  hesitating  tones  of  the  tema?  " 

The  foreign  phrases  suggested  a  chance  to  her 
despair. 

"  Do  you  speak  Italian  or  French?  "  she  asked. 
421 


The  Windfall 

"  No — nor  English,  either,  I'm  afraid.  Wish  I 
did,"  Lloyd  replied,  looking  down  at  her,  his  face 
illumined  in  some  stray  shifting  gleam  of  the 
lantern.  "  The  only  consolation  is  that  I  have  not 
much  to  say  anyhow.  A  few  words  will  express 
my  thoughts." 

11  Say,"  exclaimed  Frank,  from  the  centre  of  the 
floor  of  the  Hall  of  Heroes — "  it  is  as  cold  as 
Greenland  down  here,  and  as  damp  as  a  marsh." 

"  And  It  goes  through  you,  this  damp  cold,"  re- 
sponded Lloyd.  "  It  isn't  like  the  dry  cold  at  the 
entrance  of  the  cave."  Then  to  Lucia,  "  Did  you 
notice  how  dusty  it  was  there?  " 

"  Well,  say,"  exclaimed  Frank,  "  have  you  seen 
enough  of  this?  " 

Lloyd  submitted  the  question  to  Lucia,  who  as- 
sented with  feverish  eagerness.  Then  he  shouted 
to  Frank,  "  Suppose  we  get  a  move  on  us.  I'm 
about  fed  up  with  this  place." 

As  Frank  retraced  his  way  to  rejoin  the  others, 
the  precious  lantern  once  more  dangling  from  his 
arm,  he  pondered  anxiously  as  to  his  next  step. 
He  knew,  partly  from  the  position  of  the  group, 
and  he  thought  that  he  could  divine  from  the  in- 
tonation of  Lloyd's  voice,  that  Lucia  had  not  been 
able  to  exchange  a  word  with  him  out  of  the  hear- 
ing of  the  mountaineer.  Hence,  he  was  sure  that 
Lloyd  was  still  all  unconscious  of  his  danger,  and 
thus  cut  off  from  his  advice  and  co-operation,  young 
Laniston  felt  peculiarly  helpless,  yet  laden  with 
responsibility.    While  in  certain  traits  of  his  ado- 

422 


The  Windfall 

lescence  he  represented  a  type  of  the  callow  under- 
graduate, he  had  an  appreciation  of  his  own 
inexperience  and  limitations  that  indeed  did  much 
to  annul  them,  and  rendered  him  almost  as  cau- 
tious as  a  man  versed  in  the  mutations  of  human 
affairs.  He  hardly  knew  what  to  do,  and  hence  he 
was  slow  to  act.  He  thought  at  one  moment  that 
he  would  call  Lloyd  aside  and  disclose  the  facts, 
thus  bringing  the  matter  to  a  crisis.  But  this,  he 
reflected,  might  precipitate  the  lurking  treachery, 
whatever  deed  it  was  that  the  man  had  in  contem- 
plation. At  length  he  determined  that,  with  the 
shifting  of  the  personnel  of  the  conference,  he 
would  call  the  mountaineer  aside,  thus  giving  Lucia 
one  moment  for  her  whispered  confidence  to  Lloyd. 

"  Come  here,  my  friend,"  Frank  said,  stopping 
short  and  looking  straight  at  the  guide  and  then 
down  at  the  light,  "  Come  and  see  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  this  lantern." 

His  face,  all  thrown  into  high  relief  by  the  light 
shining  upward  upon  it,  placid,  and  smooth,  and 
roseate,  gave  no  intimation  of  the  unrest  in  his 
mind,  and  even  a  suspicious  man  might  easily 
have  been  caught  by  the  lure. 

But  the  saturnine  mountaineer  resisted  stanchly. 
"  Nuthin'  the  matter  with  it,"  he  retorted.  "  But 
I  tell  you  now,  ef  ye  fool  with  that  thar  lantern 
an'  git  it  out'n  fix,  you  will  be  in  hell  fire  a  good 
spell  'fore  yer  time  comes — that's  whut!  " 

"  Look  out,  man — bridle  your  words  in  the 
presence  of  this  lydy — or  I'll  cut  your  tongue  out," 

423 


The  Windfall 

Lloyd  spoke  abruptly,  with  such  sudden  fierceness 
that  the  mountaineer  started  aside. 

The  stalwart  Frank,  knowing  what  he  knew, 
could  have  fainted  at  this  provocation  to  the  lurk- 
ing menace.  With  desperate  eagerness  he  sought 
to  re-establish  such  poor  pretence  of  an  entente 
cordiale  as  had  heretofore  existed.  "  Have  patience 
with  the  speech  of  the  country,  Mr.  Lloyd.  The 
thoughts  of  a  plain  man  are  plainly  expressed,  hey, 
my  friend?"  he  said  jovially,  clapping  the  guide 
on  the  shoulder. 

It  was  but  a  momentary  diversion,  but  in  that 
restricted  interval  Lucia  whispered  to  Lloyd,  "  He 
is  the  man  who  attacked  you  in  the  Ferris 
Wheel." 

Lloyd  looked  surprised  for  a  moment — startled. 
Then  he  responded,  laughing  a  trifle,  "  You  must 
be  mistaken.  The  doctor  thought  the  hurt  was 
from  the  fall — not  a  blow.  He  had  no  motive. 
I  never  saw  him  till  to-day.  I  haven't  an  enemy  in 
the  world." 

"  He  was  in  disguise,"  Lucia  whispered. 

"  Oh,  that,  indeed."  Lloyd  looked  down  at  her 
with  a  doubting  but  lenient  smile.  "  If  ever  I  have 
to  go  on  the  road  again,  I'll  get  you  to  write  me  a 
play! — you  are  a  prodigy  at  plots — I  can  see 
that!" 

Lucia  was  on  the  verge  of  collapse — fit  to  fall. 
For  the  sake  of  this  moment  she  had  controlled  her 
fears,  and  tried  to  the  limit  her  powers  of  en- 
durance, and  followed  into  this  abyss  the  guidance 

424 


The  Windfall 

of  a  known  traitor.  She  had  risked  her  life  in  this 
cavern  of  darkness  and  despair  whence  she  might 
never  issue,  that  she  might  tell  Lloyd  that  his  own 
life  was  in  danger — and  for  naught!  She  could 
not  appeal  to  his  fears — for  to  fear  he  seemed 
impervious. 

And  so  he  thought  she  had  come,  simply  because 
she  wanted  to  see  the  cave — the  folly  of  it!  And 
he  would  never  know  that  she  loved  him  and  his 
safety  better  than  her  life — and  indeed  why  should 
he  know  this,  when  she  would  have  none  of  him, 
and  his  bizarre  past,  and  his  humdrum  future  with 
his  "  bit  of  money  "  and  his  little  dingy  home  of  a 
six-room  frame  house  on  a  small  plantation!  He 
had  already  offered  her  these  values — which  she 
had  rejected,  though  she  loved  him,  as  she  had 
already  told  him — why  should  he  know  how 
much — how  much! 

She  hung  heavily  on  his  arm,  so  had  the  elasticity 
of  her  gait  failed  her,  and  almost  at  once  he  no- 
ticed the  change. 

"  This  is  too  much  for  you,"  he  said  consider- 
ately. "  You  are  tired.  Look  here,  guide,"  he 
called  out  peremptorily.  "  Get  us  out  of  here  now 
— the  shortest  way." 

The  mountaineer,  after  his  sullen  manner,  made 
no  comment,  but  set  out  at  once  at  a  fair  pace,  pre- 
ceding Frank,  whom  he  still  permitted  without 
protest  to  carry  the  lantern.  Young  Laniston,  crest- 
fallen and  very  considerably  dismayed,  sought  to 
lessen  the  distance  between  them,  some  twenty  feet, 

425 


The  Windfall 

by  spurting  in  a  fast  walk,  whereupon  the  guide 
broke  into  a  jog  trot,  keeping  the  interval  exactly 
the  same. 

"  Hold  on  for  the  light,"  exclaimed  Frank, 
realising  that  Lucia  must  needs  be  distressed  to 
keep  this  pace  or  fall  hopelessly  to  the  rear.  He 
relapsed  into  his  former  gait  and  at  once  the  guide 
relaxed  his  speed  in  exact  proportion.  "  You  had 
better  wait  a  bit,"  said  Frank,  ignoring  that  aught 
of  unpleasantness  had  happened;  "you  will  fall 
into  a  crevice  if  you  don't  mind." 

He  sent  a  shaft  of  light  flickering  on  ahead,  but 
sullen  and  sinister  the  man  made  no  response,  still 
steadily  preceding  them  into  the  dense  glooms,  his 
figure  barely  glimpsed  by  the  lantern's  fluctuating 
light  as  they  followed. 

Frank's  alarms  were  now  very  definitely  excited. 
He  could  not  understand  the  change  in  the  man's 
policy  in  leaving  the  post  which  he  had  so  stead- 
fastly maintained  in  Lloyd's  immediate  proximity. 
He  had  either  relinquished  his  scheme  or  he  was 
now  proceeding  to  put  it  into  execution.  Frank 
was  mindful  too  of  the  malignity  with  which  the 
mountaineer  pointed  the  fact  how  his  caution  had 
overshot  the  mark  by  retaining  the  custody  of  the 
lantern.  Much  good  would  it  do  them  if  the  guide, 
evidently  curiously  familiar  with  the  place,  should 
contrive  to  distance  them  altogether,  or  dodge  be- 
hind one  of  the  buttresses  of  the  cliffs  of  this  under- 
ground world,  and  so  hiding  leave  them  to  find 
their  way  out  of  this  labyrinth  without  a  clue,  or 

426 


The  Windfall 

perchance,  wandering  in  eccentric  circles,  perish 
finally  of  cold  or  starvation.  It  was  impossible  for 
them  to  recognise  any  landmark  of  the  dread  Plu- 
tonian scene — black  night  on  every  side,  save 
dusky  outlines  of  crags  and  chasms,  the  tiny  white 
focus  of  the  lantern  with  its  fibrous  halo  failing  in 
deep  glooms,  and  beyond,  the  dim  shadow  of  a 
man,  trotting  steadily — how  well  he  knew  his  foot- 
ing!— to  lose  sight  of  whom  were  certain  death  in 
this  world  of  Erebus. 

"  If  I  only  had  a  pistol,  even  without  a  cartridge 
in  it,  I'd  stop  that  light-heeled  fellow,"  Frank  said 
indignantly,  but  in  a  low  voice,  over  his  shoulder 
to  the  two  who  followed  close  upon  his  steps. 

u  Don't  be  frightened,  Miss  Laniston,"  Lloyd 
reassured  Lucia.  "  We  shan't  lose  sight  of  our 
precious  guide.  I  could  run  him  down  in  two 
seconds.  And  if  necessary  I  will  just  snatch  you  up 
in  my  arms  and  overhaul  him  forthwith.  I'd  do  it 
now,  but  it  is  best  to  give  him  line,  and  see  what 
his  intentions  really  can  be." 

The  next  moment  a  chilly  sound  rang  through 
the  silent  cave  and  all  the  unfortunate  explorers 
started  with  a  nervous  shock.  In  another  instant 
they  recognised  its  character.  It  was  the  hooting 
of  a  screech  owl. 

"  That  settles  it,"  exclaimed  Lloyd  with  a  joy- 
ous sense  of  relief.  "  That  shows  we  can't  be  very 
far  from  the  outside.  The  owls  hide  about  near 
the  entrance  of  a  cave  in  the  daytime — then  they 
fly  out  at  night  like  the  bats." 

427 


The  Windfall 

Lucia  tried  to  share  his  hopefulness;  she  looked 
about  with  eager  expectancy.  "  But  I  don't  see  or 
hear  any  bats,"  she  said. 

"  They  will  no  doubt  put  in  an  appearance  be- 
fore long,"  Lloyd  answered.  "  There  is  the  owl 
again." 

She  shivered  at  the  blood-curdling,  ill-omened 
cry,  despite  its  fortunate  augury  to  them. 

The  shrill,  uncanny  notes  of  the  screech  owl  again 
trembled  repetitiously  on  the  thin,  rare  air,  then 
the  low,  sinister  chuckling  of  the  bird  ensued,  so 
true  to  life,  so  perfectly  imitated  that  the  cry  had 
been  several  times  repeated,  after  considerable  in- 
tervals, before  they  perceived  that  they  had  heard 
no  owl — that  the  mountaineer  now  and  again 
paused  as  he  hurried  on  in  advance  and  standing 
still  mimicked  the  creature's  ill-omened  cry  with  a 
perfection  of  similitude  that  might  have  deceived 
the  senses  of  more  practical  woodsmen  than  they 
professed  to  be.  The  stoppage  gave  the  explorers 
time  to  gain  on  their  strange  guide  and  as  the 
shrilling  rang  out  once  more  the  source  whence  it 
emanated  became  obvious. 

Frank,  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  the  others, 
showed  a  startled,  dismayed  face  and  Lloyd  with  a 
strange,  unaccustomed  thrill  about  his  heart,  felt 
that  a  crisis  impended.  Their  thought  was  the 
same — they  were  following  a  madman,  or  he  was 
signalling  to  confederates  ambushed  in  the  hope  of 
booty,  or  he  was  masking  the  noise  of  their  ap- 
proach by  this,  a  familiar  sound. 

428 


The  Windfall 

Lucia  suddenly  spoke,  a  joyous  break  in  her 
voice  that  was  nevertheless  like  a  sob.  "  I  see  a 
faint  light  in  the  distance — we  are  truly  nearing 
the  exit."  She  looked  up  at  Lloyd  through  tears 
in  her  eyes.  He  felt  her  hand  grow  light  on  his 
arm,  her  step  quicken  at  his  side — so  does  hope 
control  the  nerves,  the  muscles. 

But  it  was  his  turn  to  doubt.  He  had  what  is 
called  "  a  head  for  localities."  The  entrance  which 
he  remembered  had  for  a  distance  longer  than  the 
light  of  day  could  be  glimpsed  a  straight  blank 
wall  on  one  side,  without  an  aperture  or  a  break, 
which  fact  had  made  it  possible  for  Frank  Lanis- 
ton  to  go  and  return  without  a  guide.  Whereas 
here  there  were  vast  spaces  of  void  darkness  on 
either  side,  the  path  was  damp  and  slippery  in 
places,  and  he  could  smell  the  breath  of  running 
water,  and  hear  the  vague  susurrus  that  echoed  the 
murmur  of  its  flow.  There  it  had  been  as  still  as 
death,  but  for  the  whisking  of  the  almost  noiseless 
wings  of  the  disturbed  bats  and  now  and  then  their 
weird  mouse-like  cry,  and  dust,  dust,  dust,  was 
over  all  the  dry  precincts  of  the  way.  He  suddenly 
spoke  his  conviction.  "  That  is  undoubtedly  light," 
he  said,  "  but  this  is  not  the  way  by  which  we  came 
into  the  cave." 

The  guide  caught  the  words  and  paused  ab- 
ruptly. He  showed  a  change  anew.  He  seemed 
suddenly  metamorphosed  from  the  malignant, 
tricky  gnome,  fleeing  from  them  as  they  ap- 
proached, or  the   madman    aping  the   bird's   cry 

429 


The  Windfall 

of  evil  presage  as  he  threaded  the  endless  laby- 
rinth of  this  subterranean  realm.  He  was  now  the 
simple  prosaic  yokel  whom,  of  their  own  free  will 
outside,  they  had  hired  as  a  guide  to  explore  a  cave 
as  a  bit  of  pastime  in  a  pastoral  day. 

"  Waal,"  he  remonstrated,  doggedly  sullen  as 
at  first,  "  didn't  you  uns  say  ez  ye  wanted  the  short- 
es'  way  out;  this  is  the  shortes'  way." 

"  But  I  expected  of  course  to  go  out  at  the  same 
place — I  wanted  the  shortest  way  to  that  exit,"  said 
Lloyd  sternly.  "  You  know  that  our  horses  are  not 
here." 

"  But  only  a  leetle  piece  off,"  the  fellow  remon- 
strated. A  real  owl  began  to  rive  the  dark  still 
air  with  his  keen  shrilling,  and  anon  his  low  tremu- 
lous chatter.  The  guide  paused  to  listen  to  the 
sound  and  then  went  on.  "  I  thought  she  mought 
rest  outside  whilst  I  went  to  lead  down  her  horse- 
critter."  Once  more  he  paused  to  listen  to  the 
scream  of  the  owl.  The  whole  place  echoed  and 
re-echoed  its  sinister  chuckle.  "  But  now  I  kem  ter 
study  'bout  'n  it  I  misdoubts  it  be  too  steep  fur 
she.  Jes'  step  for'd,  stranger,  an'  see.  It  be  jes' 
round  the  turn." 

Before  Frank  could  warn  Lloyd,  before  Lucia 
could  utter  a  word  of  remonstrance,  before  Lloyd 
himself  took  an  instant's  thought,  he  dropped 
Lucia's  hand  from  his  arm  and  stepped  around  the 
great  buttress  of  the  cliff,  the  mountaineer  at  his 
side. 

Lloyd's  figure  was  suddenly  defined  in  a  great 
430 


The  Windfall 

glare  of  artificial  light  and  what  he  saw  the  others 
only  knew  afterward.  Descent  was  obviously  im- 
practicable. Sheer  down,  but  only  some  twenty- 
five  feet,  lay  a  vast  replica  of  the  white  cavernous 
hall  they  had  quitted,  with  stalactites  and  stalag- 
mites all  a-glitter;  but  here  was  habitation,  move- 
ment; strange,  troglodytic  figures,  with  skulking 
black  shadows,  shifted  about  amongst  the  columns; 
prosaic  suggestions  environed  the  great  vats  and 
tubs,  barrels  and  sacks  of  grain,  the  metallic  glim- 
mer of  a  large  copper  still,  and  the  open  door  of  a 
furnace,  the  fire  flaring  to  a  white  heat.  So  silent 
had  been  the  approach  under  the  normal  cavern- 
ous sound  of  the  owl's  shrilling  that  not  one  of 
the  moonshiners  looked  up  as  Lloyd  looked  down. 
Only  when  the  guide,  impatient  for  the  catastrophe, 
uttered  a  sharp,  short  call  did  they  raise  their  eyes. 
Lloyd,  dumbfounded,  instinctively  stepped  back- 
ward, and  at  this  moment  Frank,  eager  with  curi- 
osity, flung  the  lantern  forward  as  he  moved,  and 
thus  the  shadow  of  the  guide  was  projected  from 
the  darkness  on  the  floor  below. 

It  was  the  boast  of  Shadrach  Pinnott  that  he  had 
not  missed  his  aim  for  thirty  years.  It  did  not  fail 
him  now.  He  saw  the  form  of  a  man  standing  at 
gaze  in  a  niche  in  the  wall  which  vanished  suddenly 
from  view;  then  a  shadow  fell  from  the  niche 
across  the  floor  below.  With  a  nice  calculation  of 
the  station  of  the  figure  that  threw  the  shadow  he 
fired  and  the  rocks  reverberated  with  the  sharp 
crack  of  the  rifle  like  the  musketry  of  a  battle,  and 

43 1 


The  Windfall 

intermingled  with  it  all  were  the  repetitious  echoes 
of  the  death-cry  of  the  victim. 

The  body  of  the  guide,  as,  mortally  wounded,  he 
fell  forward,  slid  downward  into  the  moonshiners' 
lair.  The  next  moment  the  door  of  the  furnace 
clashed  and  all  was  darkness  and  silence.  Lloyd 
and  Frank,  realising  that  the  height  on  which  they 
stood  and  the  doubt  of  their  numbers  and  per- 
sonality precluded  pursuit  for  a  time  from  the  dis- 
tillers on  a  lower  level,  made  the  best  of  their  way 
with  the  lantern,  carrying  the  half-fainting  Lucia 
with  them,  toward  the  direction  in  which  they  had 
entered,  so  far  as  their  recollection  might  serve. 
How  they  would  have  fared  in  their  dazed  and 
exhausted  condition,  what  disastrous  fate  might 
have  befallen  them  they  often  speculated  afterward. 
But  it  was  not  long  before  they  heard  the  resonant 
halloos  of  the  searching  party  summoned  by  Jar- 
dine  to  their  rescue,  and  only  the  detail  of  the  ex- 
traordinary treachery  and  fate  of  their  guide  saved 
them  from  very  trenchant  ridicule,  in  that  land  of 
sylvan  prowess,  for  involving  themselves  in  a  trap 
whence  they  must  needs  be  extricated  by  raising  the 
countryside. 


43* 


CHAPTER   XX 

MR.  DALTON,  hearkening  profession- 
ally to  the  adventure,  took  charge  of 
the  legal  aspects  of  the  matter  in  the 
interests  of  his  client.  He  notified  by  telephone  the 
local  officials  of  the  death  of  the  guide,  and  also  by 
the  long  distance  wire  the  marshal  of  the  district 
of  the  probable  location  of  the  still,  and  in  each 
communication  offered  on  the  part  of  Lloyd  and 
young  Laniston  to  be  prepared  to  give  their  testi- 
mony whenever  it  should  be  required. 

Then,  since  caution  is  always  concomitant  with 
conscience  in  a  certain  organisation,  he  proposed 
that  the  summer  sojourners  should  depart  New 
Helvetia  forthwith. 

"  There  is  no  use  in  mincing  matters,"  he  said. 
11  These  moonshiners  are  very  desperate  men. 
They  may  make  an  effort  to  prevent  this  direct  and 
irrefutable  testimony  against  them  from  ever 
reaching  the  ear  of  the  authorities,  Federal  or  local. 
For  a  while  they  may  not  know  who  Mr.  Lloyd 
was,  as  he  appeared  judgment-wise  in  the  niche, 
like  the  miracle  of  the  writing  on  the  wall  of  the 
palace  of  Belshazzar.  But  the  rescue  party  will  of 
course  spread  the  details  far  and  wide  through  the 
countryside,  and  the  lives  of  both  Mr.  Lloyd  and 
Mr.  Laniston  might  be  much  endangered  in  linger- 

433 


The  Windfall 

ing  in  this  sequestered  place.  In  fact  this  wild 
region  is  not  now  safe.  I  am  not  an  alarmist,  but 
I  should  recommend  indeed  the  immediate  closing 
of  the  hotel  and  the  departure  of  all  the  guests 
from  New  Helvetia  at  this  very  critical  juncture." 

There  were  grave  faces  contemplating  the  glow- 
ing log  fire  in  the  great  chimney-place  of  the  hotel 
office  as  he  talked.  Few  people  relish  the  role  of 
scapegoat.  The  idea  of  becoming  a  sacrifice  to  a 
possible  mistake  of  identity  for  either  of  these  for- 
midable witnesses,  the  billet  for  the  bullet  of  a 
distiller's  rifle  fired  from  the  ambush  of  the  shrub- 
bery of  the  lawn  one  of  these  dark  moonless  nights, 
seemed  far  from  a  fitting  sequel  to  the  placid 
summer  pleasuring  at  New  Helvetia.  There  was 
also  the  possibility,  unpleasing  indeed  to  anticipate, 
of  the  incendiary  destruction  of  the  hotel,  with  all 
its  guests,  to  make  sure  of  the  witnesses  in  the  holo- 
caust, to  shield  the  crime  of  the  murderous  distil- 
lers. The  personality  of  the  adviser  went  far  to 
commend  his  counsel,  and  the  fact  that  the  host 
ardently  seconded  the  proposition  made  it  manifest 
that  the  owner  of  the  hostelry  was  not  without  fears 
for  his  property  and  person.  A  short  consultation 
resulted  in  the  resolution  of  the  guests  to  quit  the 
place  early  the  next  morning,  no  one  caring  after 
dark  to  encounter  in  addition  to  possible  attack  by 
the  wayside  the  dangers  of  the  precipitous  moun- 
tainous road  in  the  descent  from  the  heights. 

The  night  was  already  coming  on,  clouded  and 
drear;  the  white  cumuli  so  gaily  racing  with  the 

434 


The  Windfall 

wind  through  the  blue  matutinal  skies  had  grown 
grim  in  heavy  grey  tumultuous  threats  of  storm. 
The  wind  was  still  astir  amongst  the  tossing  cumu- 
lose  tumult  and  falling  weather  seemed  hardly  yet 
imminent,  but  when  Lucia,  refreshed  by  rest  and 
sleep  under  the  influence  of  bromide  administered 
by  her  aunt,  joined  the  group  in  the  office,  the 
gusts  were  beginning  to  dash  torrents  of  rain 
against  the  great  black  windows,  all  adrip,  and  the 
shouts  of  the  riotous  powers  of  the  air  filled  the 
outer  voids  of  mountain  and  valley  and  the  utter 
darkness  of  the  moonless  night. 

Mrs.  Laniston  had  deemed  it  better  when  the 
girl  returned  that  afternoon  from  the  ill-starred 
jaunt,  exhausted  and  half  hysterical  from  fright 
and  horror,  that  as  scant  regard  as  possible  should 
be  accorded  her  nervous  agitation.  She  urged 
Lucia  to  exert  her  will-power  to  throw  off  the  in- 
fluences of  the  disastrous  day,  even  its  recollection. 
The  evil  results  upon  her  mind  and  physique  would 
be  best  nullified  by  slipping  with  as  slight  jar  as 
might  be  into  the  normal  routine  of  life. 

"  Think  of  it  no  more,  dearest  Lucia,"  she  said 
pettingly.  "  Wear  your  prettiest  gown  and  come 
down  to  tea.  If  you  lie  here  and  brood  over  this 
to-night,  you  may  not  to-morrow  be  able  to  quit 
the  subject." 

But  Lucia  found  naturally  enough  the  theme 
still  rife  about  the  fireside  in  the  office.  The  ques- 
tion of  transportation,  the  problems  of  conveyances 
and  horses  had  aJready  been  settled,  partly  with  the 

435 


The  Windfall 

aid  of  the  hotel  stables  which  were  usually  avail- 
able only  for  pleasure  trips,  a  Colbury  livery  es- 
tablishment having  the  monopoly  of  the  general 
travel ;  but  on  this  occasion  every  vehicle  and  horse 
at  New  Helvetia  were  brought  into  requisition,  so 
eager  was  the  proprietor  to  be  rid  of  such  a  source 
of  danger  as  his  pleasant  guests  seemed  now  likely 
to  prove.  An  arrangement  was  made  by  telephone 
by  which  the  Colbury  livery  stable  was  to  send  up 
additional  vehicles  for  baggage  and  servants,  and 
the  business  interests  thus  satisfactorily  concluded, 
the  minds  and  conversation  of  the  group  reverted 
forthwith  to  the  sensation  of  the  day  and  the  solu- 
tion of  details  of  mystery,  not  altogether  compre- 
hended in  the  jejune  accounts  that  had  at  first 
reached  the  hotel. 

The  views  of  Mr.  Dalton,  by  reason  of  his  pro- 
fession and  his  close  association  with  the  chief  actor 
in  the  sensation,  commanded  much  respect  and 
were  very  generally  adopted. 

"  I  take  it,"  he  was  saying  as  Lucia  entered  and 
Lloyd  rose  and  offered  her  a  chair — the  lawyer 
glanced  up  from  where  he  was  comfortably  en- 
sconced with  his  cigar  in  a  rocking-chair  before  the 
blazing  fire,  "  Good-evening,  Miss  Laniston — I 
trust  you  are  fully  recovered  from  the  ill  effects  of 
these  unlucky  excitements — I  take  it  that  the  man 
met  the  horseback  party  merely  by  accident,  and 
having  some  deep  and  murderous  grudge  against 
Mr.  Lloyd " 

"  Someone  in  the  rescue  party,"  interrupted 
43  6 


The  Windfall 

Frank,  "  when  the  body  was  found  and  identified, 
was  saying  that  his  sweetheart  had  thrown  him 
over,  and  that  he  suspected  that  it  was  the  influence 
of  her  foolish  admiration  of  Mr.  Lloyd,  whom 
she  had  seen  at  the  Street  Fair,  where  she 
danced." 

"  And  that's  arrant  nonsense,"  Lloyd  instantly 
asseverated.  "  She  did  a  song-and-dance  turn,  like 
any  other  coryphee,  and  had  no  more  consideration 
for  me  than  the  Flying-lydy  or  the  Fat  lydy  who 
perform  in  their  own  interests." 

"At  all  events,"  Mr.  Dalton  said,  "this  Eu- 
gene Binley  thirsted  for  your  blood.  He  was  un- 
armed— which  surprises  me  very  much "  Mr. 

Dalton  fitted  the  tips  of  his  fingers  accurately 
together  as  he  pieced  out  his  bits  of  evidence 
- — "  really  surprises  me.  These  mountaineers, 
if  to  all  appearances  without  weapons,  usually 
carry  what  they  call  a  shooting  iron  in  the  leg 
of  their  long  boots.  He  could  not  kill  a  profes- 
sional athlete  like  Mr.  Lloyd  in  a  fist-fight ;  he  could 
not  probably  get  an  opportunity  to  push  him  when 
off  his  guard  into  an  abyss — though  this  is  what  I 
think  he  contemplated  when  he  refused  to  accom- 
pany Mr.  Laniston  back  for  the  ladies  or  to  wait 
alone." 

"  That  idea  occurred  to  Mr.  Jardine — after  we 
had  remembered  seeing  the  man  in  disguise  at  the 
Fair  and  in  the  Ferris  Wheel,"  said  Ruth,  who, 
being  far  more  phlegmatic  than  Lucia,  and  having 
been  tortured  by  fears  for  her  relatives  rather  than 

437 


The  Windfall 

physical  hardships  and  the  sight  of  a  hideous  deed, 
had  readily  recovered  her  equanimity  when  their 
safety  was  assured.  "  That's  why  we  gave  them 
so  little  time  to  return  before  we  rode  off  and  raised 
the  community  as  we  went." 

"  This  man's  plan  was  well  laid  and  evidently 
was  evolved  almost  on  the  spur  of  the  moment." 
Mr.  Dalton  continued  his  research  into  the  motives 
of  the  deed.  "  He  bethought  himself  that  the 
moonshiners  would  not  stay  their  hand  should  a 
presumable  spy  be  detected  looking  in  upon  their 
illicit  still.  Thus  he  led  Mr.  Lloyd  to  their  lair 
within  their  view.  He  must  have  had  a  grudge 
at  the  moonshiners  too,  for  he  had  provided  him- 
self in  Mr.  Laniston  and  Miss  Lucia  with  witnesses 
to  the  nefarious  deed.  What  a  precious  shifty  ras- 
cal this  was — committing  a  murder  by  proxy !  " 

"  A  wonderful  escape  for  Mr.  Lloyd,"  said  Mrs. 
Laniston.  "  And  where  do  you  go,  Mr.  Lloyd, 
from  New  Helvetia?  "  She  was  seeking  to  change 
the  subject  on  Lucia's  account.  The  young  girl 
was  looking  very  pallid,  though  delicately  lovely  in 
a  gown  of  white  voile  over  white  silk.  She  wore 
a  belt  of  old  gold  brocade  which  had  as  a  clasp  a 
fine  old  topaz,  a  bit  of  the  antiquated  jewelry  that 
recent  fashions  have  caused  to  be  delved  out  of 
old  cases  and  brought  to  light  in  new  settings.  This 
had  been  a  great  brooch,  and  three  other  stones, 
similar  but  smaller — once  the  ear-rings  and  brace- 
let-clasp of  the  same  set, — were  now  mounted  in  a 
"  dog-collar  "  of  filigree  gold  about  her  delicate 

43  S 


The  Windfall 

neck.     In  her  hair  Lloyd  noted  a  cluster  of  golden- 
rod,  a  relic  of  the  ride  to-day. 

"Where  am  I  going?" — Lloyd  repeated  the 
question — "  as  soon  as  I  can  get  away  from  the 
coroner's  jury  I  shall  go  to  my  own  house — I  am 
due  there  on  the  tenth  at  any  rate." 

"  To  receive  your  cousin  Mr.  Thomas  Jennico 
Lloyd,  I  suppose?"  said  the  gentleman  who  was 
well  acquainted  in  Glaston  and  who  had  manifested 
much  interest  in  the  transformed  showman. 

"  And  his  wife  and  his  daughter,  Miss  Geraldine 
Lloyd." 

Mrs.  Laniston  looked  bewildered.  "  But  isn't 
this  rather  early  to  go  so  far  south?  The  danger 
from  yellow  fever  is  by  no  means  counteracted  by 
these  light  frosts  in  the  upper  country." 

The  gentleman  who  had  connections  in  Glaston 
surveyed  her  in  surprise.  "  Why,  there  has  never 
been  a  case  of  yellow  fever  to  originate  near  Glas- 
ton— they  feel  no  apprehension  whatever." 

"  Mr.  Lloyd's  home  place  is  within  a  few  miles 
of  Glaston,"  Mr.  Dalton  explained. 

In  common  with  most  talkative  women  Mrs. 
Laniston  could  not  silently  await  developments. 
"  Oh — I  thought  his  home  was  near  us — in  Louis- 
iana— beyond  the  bight  of  the  bayou." 

"That "  said  Mr.  Dalton,  with  undis- 
guised disregard,  "  why  I  understand  that  that  plan- 
tation has  only  a  little  house  on  it — a  neglected 
place,  too.  I  think  that  Mr.  Jennico  only  took  it 
for  a  debt." 

439 


The  Windfall 

"  Mr.  Lloyd's  home-place,  the  old  Jennico  place, 
near  Glaston,  is  one  of  the  finest  country  seats  in 
the  whole  South,"  the  gentleman  who  knew  Glas- 
ton said,  with  almost  local  pride.  "  It  is  positively 
baronial.  I  should  think,  Mr.  Lloyd,  that  you 
would  be  very  happy  to  own  it." 

Lloyd  smiled,  his  eyes  on  the  fire.  "  I  saw  it 
only  once,"  he  said. 

"  Yes — yes "  exclaimed  Mr.  Dalton  de- 
lightedly, "  the  time  you  called  on  your  grand- 
father, Judge  Lloyd,  when  he  was  visiting  there. 
Ah  ha !  you  took  no  notice  whatever  of  the  plump 
little  gentleman  reading  the  paper  in  his  easy  chair 
in  the  bay  window — and  listening  to  every  word. 
Charles  Jennico  always  had  more  curiosity  than 
any  woman!  He  had  intended  to  leave  all  his 
property  to  the  eldest  grandson  of  his  friend  and 
cousin,  Judge  Lloyd — this  Thomas  Jennico  Lloyd. 
1  But  by  George,  I  made  up  my  mind  then  that  I'd 
divide  my  estate  evenly  between  the  two  grandsons,' 
he  told  me  when  he  gave  me  his  instructions  to 
draw  up  his  will.  He  said,  '  I  wouldn't  do  any- 
thing then;  I  wouldn't  interfere  with  the  young 
cock's  independence — I  honoured  him  for  it.  But 
I  never  saw  anybody  who  would  grace  wealth  better 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  he  shouldn't  eat  the 
bread  of  carefulness  all  his  days.'  And  that's 
how  our  young  friend  came  to  be  the  residuary 
legatee  and  devisee." 

The  priggish  gentleman,  who  was  of  the  type 
who  grudges  a  fellow-creature  nothing  so  much  as 

440 


The  Windfall 

self-satisfaction,  remarked  with  sour  emphasis: 
"  Your  Street  Fair  colleagues,  Mr.  Lloyd,  will 
have  marvellously  little  trouble  in  advertising  them- 
selves with  your  accession  to  fortune.  The  news- 
papers are  beforehand  with  them  already.  You 
are  spread  all  over  the  New  York  papers," — and 
he  turned  a  sheet  trembling  and  crackling  in  his 
hand  as  he  unfolded  it,  and  read  the  following 
flaring  headline: 

"A  Windfall.  From  Mountebank  to  Mil- 
lionaire." 

Mrs.  Laniston  could  not  forbear  so  sharp  an 
exclamation  of  surprise  that  Mr.  Dalton  turned  and 
looked  interrogatively  at  her. 

"  Why — we  have  made  no  secret  of  it,"  said  he. 
"  I  mentioned  that  a  good  bit  of  money  went  with 
the  real  estate." 

"  Oh,"  Mrs.  Laniston  explained,  faltering  and 
flushing,  "  I  had  no  idea  that  it  was  as  much  as 
that."  Then  recovering  herself  as  best  she  might 
she  continued,  "  I  suppose  I  received  that  impres- 
sion because  I  had  heard  you  say  that  his  grand- 
father, Judge  Lloyd,  was  so  reduced  in  fortune." 

"  Judge  Lloyd  left  nothing,"  said  Mr.  Dalton. 
"  This  fortune  comes  from  Charles  Jennico,  a  very 
distant  relative  who  was  a  childless  widower  and 
much  attached  to  Judge  Lloyd's  family." 

Lloyd's  eyes  were  fixed  discerningly  upon  Mrs. 
Laniston  for  one  moment,  with  that  infrequent 
sternness  that  was  yet  so  definite  in  his  face.  He 
wondered  if  the  girl's  course  toward  him  to-day 

441 


The  Windfall 

had  been  prompted  by  her  influence.  He  reflected 
that  Lucia  had  shown, — she  had  said  indeed, — 
that  she  loved  him.  And  yet  she  would  not 
tolerate  his  suit.  This  he  felt  sure  was  the  work 
of  the  cautious  chaperon,  under  the  mistake  that 
his  affluence  was  but  a  most  limited  competence. 
Doubtless  she  had  subtly  argued,  urgently  con- 
strained, really  overwhelmed  the  young  girl's  mind 
and  preference,  for  independent  and  self  sufficient 
as  Lucia  affected  to  be  she  was  in  reality  docile  to 
authority  and  in  any  matters  of  importance  easily 
controlled,  as  he  could  see,  by  the  judgment  of 
her  aunt,  whom  she  loved  and  respected  and 
trusted. 

Mrs.  Laniston  could  not  disguise  her  dismay 
when  once  more  Lucia  and  she  were  together  in 
the  upper  story  of  the  hotel.  The  apartment 
seemed  bare  and  wintry  as  the  storm  beat  upon  the 
resounding  roof  and  gables  of  the  building,  and  the 
infinite  stretches  of  the  tempestuous  clouds,  above 
the  vast  purple  mountains  and  the  untenanted  val- 
leys, showed  in  the  occasional  broad  flashes  of  the 
lightning  through  the  uncurtained  windows,  as  the 
summer  birds  rifled  their  temporary  nests  and  made 
ready  for  their  flitting  on  the  morrow. 

"  Oh,  Lucia,  Lucia,  my  dear,"  wailed  Mrs. 
Laniston.  "  I  have  made  such  a  terrible  mistake! 
I  have  destroyed  your  splendid  chances — for  you 
loved  that  man,  and  but  for  me  you  would  have 
married  him." 

And  Mrs.  Laniston  sat  on  the  side  of  the  bed 
442 


The  Windfall 

in  the  sparsely  furnished  fireless  summer  room  and 
wrung  her  hands  in  wretchedness. 

Lucia's  face  was  wan  and  wistful  as  she  stood 
tall  and  slim  and  beautiful,  in  her  sheer  white  dress 
with  the  shimmer  of  the  silk  beneath  it,  against  the 
background  of  the  dark  window  with  the  fluctua- 
ting view  of  the  tempestuous  landscape  without. 
She  held  in  her  hand  the  golden-rod  that  she  had 
drawn  from  her  hair  and  she  looked  like  the  per- 
sonification of  the  departing  joys  of  summer. 

But  she  had  taken  strong  control  of  her  nerves 
and  she  held  it. 

"  You  meant  for  the  best,  Aunt  Dora,"  she 
murmured.  "  All  that  you  said  is  true — as  true 
now  as  then." 

"  But,  oh,  child,  money  makes  such  a  difference 
— opportunity,  travel,  splendid  environment.  The 
incompatibility  I  feared,  the  bizarre  influences  of 
his  past  life,  his  language,  his  opinions,  his  man- 
ners, his  lack  of  education  would  all  be  condoned 
by  the  world  in  a  man  of  great  wealth.  And,  even 
without  it,  you  loved  him."  After  a  pause, 
"  Lucia,"  Mrs.  Laniston  pleaded  tremulously, 
"  can't  you  try  to  lure  him  back.  It  would  do  no 
harm  to  try." 

"  I  will  not,"  cried  Lucia  with  sudden  passion. 
"  I  would  not — for  all  his  fortune — have  him  to 
think  that  it  made  the  difference  to  me." 

Mrs.  Laniston  could  not  herself  have  at- 
tained such  dignity  of  poise,  but  she  had  a  dreary 
satisfaction  that  Lloyd  could  perceive  no  suggestion 

443 


The  Windfall 

of  change  in  Lucia's  manner  wrought  by  the  reve- 
lations of  the  magnitude  of  his  windfall,  no  token 
of  relenting  in  the  scanty  association  that  remained 
to  them  during  the  journey  and  the  final  parting. 

His  detention  in  Colbury  was  slight.  In  that 
short  dazzled  bewildered  moment  when  he  had 
looked  down  upon  the  still  in  the  cave  he  had  not 
recognised  any  face  or  figure  among  the  distillers. 
No  facts  could  be  adduced  against  the  Pinnott 
family  in  connection  with  the  moonshining  evi- 
dently practised  in  the  cavern,  and  he  was  not  sorry 
that  they  should  go  scot  free  despite  his  suspicions. 
Clotilda  had  obviously  lost  little  in  losing  her  lover, 
but  it  was  because  of  this  he  thought  that  she 
seemed  dazed  and  dull  and  dense  to  him  when  he 
told  her  of  his  windfall  and  bestowed  upon  her  and 
the  old  crone  and  Daniel  Pinnott's  wife  and  child 
such  gratuities  "  to  remember  him  by  "  as  he  fan- 
cied might  please  their  taste.  Then  he  was  gone 
and  she  heard  of  him  never  again. 

Mrs.  Laniston  did  not  lose  sight  of  him.  She 
was  wont  to  scan  with  pangs  of  self-reproach  the 
reports  of  the  social  world  in  the  newspapers,  and 
bitterly  noted  the  fulfilment  of  her  prophecy  how 
easily  it  might  reconcile  itself  to  peculiar  antece- 
dents and  endowments  when  the  wealth  was  com- 
mensurate— and  in  justification  of  this  mundane 
appraisement  it  might  be  urged  that  the  prestige 
of  family  distinction  was  great  also.  In  the  short- 
est imaginable  interval  Lloyd  became  noted  in  the 
social  whirl;  he  was  a  patron  of  the  theatre  and  the 

444 


The  Windfall 

fine  arts ;  a  great  devotee  to  outdoor  sports,  master 
of  the  fox-hounds,  prominent  in  the  country  club 
and  at  the  horse  show,  and  he  soon  grew  interested 
in  the  turf  as  an  owner  of  fine  racers.  His  attrac- 
tive personality,  and  his  inherited  claims  to  fine 
social  position  speedily  made  him  a  favourite  in 
certain  high  and  exclusive  circles.  He  became,  so 
to  speak,  the  fashion;  his  traits  were  admired  and 
imitated;  his  sayings  were  repeated;  his  every 
movement  was  chronicled;  and  when  it  became 
bruited  abroad  before  many  months  that  he  was 
about  to  marry  his  cousin's  only  child,  Miss 
Geraldine  Lloyd,  his  popularity  rendered  it  a 
matter  of  very  general  satisfaction  that  the  great 
Jennico  fortune,  which  had  been  divided  in  his  be- 
half, was  once  more  to  become  a  single  interest  to 
his  further  advantage. 

When  this  news  came  to  Louisiana  Lucia  Lanis- 
ton  was  moved  to  take  her  way  in  a  solitary  walk 
down  toward  his  little  neglected  plantation  which 
she  knew  lay  beyond  the  bight  of  the  bayou  near  the 
swamp.  The  narrow  path  kept  the  summit  of  the 
levee  along  the  Mississippi  River,  the  great  em- 
bankment covered  with  the  thick  mat  of  the  Ber- 
muda grass, — the  still,  deserted  plantation  fields  on 
one  side,  the  crisp  sere  stalks  flaunting  here  and 
there  a  flocculent  lock,  "  dog-tail "  as  the  un- 
gathered  remnant  of  the  cotton  is  called,  and  on 
the  other  side  shining  pools,  where  the  encroaching 
river  was  creeping  up  into  the  area  of  the  "  no 
man's  land  "  between  the  protective  levee  and  the 

445. 


The  Windfall 

treacherous  current.  A  lonely  region  this;  she  met 
no  living  creature,  and  as  she,  herself,  swiftly 
walked  along  the  embankment,  her  tall  slim  figure 
in  her  gray  cloth  dress  with  her  gray  chinchilla 
furs — the  only  note  of  vivid  colour  being  the  red 
wing  with  the  grey  ostrich  plume  in  her  hat — might 
have  been  visible  a  long  way  off,  had  there  been 
any  observer  in  view.  When  she  quitted  this 
path  she  followed  the  quiet  country  road,  along 
its  many  windings  to  Lloyd's  little  plantation,  a  pil- 
grimage of  final  farewell  to  a  cherished  thought, 
and  stood  at  the  padlocked  gate,  and  looked  long 
at  the  little  humble  unpainted  house,  which  was 
without  a  tenant  now.  The  soft  bland  air  of  the 
Southern  winter  was  about  her;  the  sheen  of  the 
sunlight  had  a  glister  like  spring;  the  eternal  green 
of  the  hedges  of  the  Cherokee  rose  and  the  never- 
dying  foliage  of  the  live  oak  above  the  roof  aided 
the  illusion.  She  had  never  regretted  his  millions, 
but  looking  over  the  gate  locked  against  her,  she 
saw  herself  as  once  heretofore  rocking  in  her  chair 
on  the  porch  of  his  house,  and  again,  with  blowsy 
hair  and  red  cheeks,  planting  lily  bulbs  in  the  high 
turfed  flower-beds  of  fantastic  shape,  and  she  knew 
that  she  had  had  then  as  now  a  vision  of  happiness. 
So  definitely  was  Lloyd  present  to  her  thoughts 
that  as  she  turned  and  saw  him  standing  on  the 
border  of  Bermuda  grass  that  fringed  the  road,  she 
did  not  start  with  an  appreciation  of  the  reality  of 
the  apparition, — it  affected  her  only  as  the  con- 
tinuity of  her  dream.     It  was  indeed  the  surprise 

446 


The  Windfall 

in  his  face,  the  embarrassment  of  his  manner,  the 
searching  questioning  look  beginning  to  grow  intent 
in  his  eyes  as  he  lifted  his  hat  that  brought  her 
suddenly  to  the  recognition  of  the  facts  of  the 
moment. 

"  You  are  not  surprised  to  see  me  here,"  he 
said,  ill  at  ease,  flushing,  consciously  malapropos, 
— it  was  as  if  presumptuously  recognising  the  fact 
that  he  must  have  been  predominant  in  her  mind 
at  the  moment. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  you."  She  regained  her  self- 
possession  by  a  mighty  effort,  as  she  offered  her 
hand.  "  We  have  heard  the  news.  I  am  glad  to 
have  an  early  opportunity  to  congratulate  you." 

His  mobile  eyebrows  went  up  at  an  acute  angle 
of  amazement.  "  Oh,"  he  said  at  length,  as  if  sud- 
denly bethinking  himself,  "  that  happy  man's  name 
is  '  Boyd ' — not  Lloyd.  The  similarity  is  giving 
us  no  end  of  confusion, — the  gossips  are  all  off  the 
track.  No,  no,"  he  added,  "  for  myself  I  have 
nothing  more  serious  on  hand  than  a  cruise  in  the 
Gulf, — my  yacht  is  lying-to  for  supplies  across  the 
bend."  He  turned  and  glanced  out  at  the  great 
Mississippi,  at  high  water  resembling  some  vast 
lake,  it  stretched  out  so  far,  and  the  vermilion 
sphere  of  the  sun,  slowly  sinking,  made  a  great 
sheen  of  red  glister  on  its  murky  rippling  expanse. 
They  could  both  see  the  smoke  rising  from  the 
funnel  of  a  yacht  lying  below  the  point  where  a 
fringe  of  pecan  trees  cut  off  the  view,  and  a  noisy 
bevy  of  green  parroquets  flitted  in  and  out  in  search 

447 


The  Windfall 

of  nuts.  "  It  struck  my  fancy,  while  waiting,  to 
come  ashore  and  view  my  possessions  here." 

He  had  thrust  his  hat  back  on  his  head  and  she 
winced  as  his  look  of  critical,  supercilious  dispar- 
agement wandered  cynically  about  the  dreary, 
shabby,  neglected  little  farm-house. 

"  So  this  is  the  palatial  home  which  you  thought 
I  had  done  you  the  honour  to  offer  to  you,"  he  said, 
smiling  ironically. 

"  Oh,  don't — don't  guy  it," — she  cried  with  a 
sharp  accent  of  pain,  remembering  her  visions. 

She  had  not  kept  the  control  of  her  nerves;  she 
was  consciously  embarrassed  and  flushing  painfully. 
She  felt  his  intent  eyes  on  her  face,  and  she  averted 
her  own  and  looked  up  at  the  sunset  aglow  on  the 
tiny  panes  of  the  blurred  cheap  glass  of  the 
windows. 

"  You  thought  little  enough  of  it  once,"  he  said 
hardily, — he  had  acquired  an  assurance,  doubtless 
through  much  adulation,  which  kept  him  from  the 
fear  of  misapprehension, — "  even  after  you  had 
learned  that  it  was  not  to  be  a  home  of  poverty, — 
yes,  indeed,"  he  continued  with  an  accession  of  bit- 
terness, "  you  took  pains  to  convince  me  that  even 
wealth  was  powerless  to  commend  me.  I  am  not 
sensitive — but  there  was  no  need  to  turn  and  turn 
the  knife  in  the  wound." 

He  gave  a  short,  angry  sigh.  "  Well, — it  is  all 
over.  I  never  meant  to  persecute  you  with  my 
protestations  again.  I  knew  then  that  Mrs.  Lan- 
iston  urged  you  to  reconsider, — that  she  would 

448 


The  Windfall 

leave  no  stone  unturned.  I  never  expected  to  see 
you  again, — and  yet  it  is  a  melancholy  pleasure," — 
he  looked  at  her  with  a  sad  smile  in  his  eyes, — 
"  and  I  take  it  mighty  kindly  of  you  that  you  don't 
deride  the  little  place  that  you  thought  was  the 
home  I  offered  you." 

"  I  love  it,"  she  cried  with  a  gush  of  tears.  "  I 
have  never  regretted  it  but  once, — and  that  was 
every  moment  and  all  the  time,  since  I  let  a  word 
of  counsel, — a  well  meant  word  though  it  was," — 
she  hastily  stipulated,  "  close  its  doors  upon  me." 

He  was  at  her  side  in  a  moment.  "  Then  tell 
me  why — why  were  you  afterward  so  cold,  so 
silent,  avoiding  even  a  casual  glance?" 

"  Lest  you  might  think  that  the  discovery, — 
the  wealth," — she  faltered. 

"  Don't  put  that  into  words,"  he  interpolated 
sternly.  "  I  will  not  forgive  you  even  an  imagi- 
nary aspersion  of  your  motives." 

They  had  turned  away  from  the  padlocked  gate, 
but  they  were  together  and  there  was  no  shadow  of 
misunderstanding  between  them.  As  they  took 
their  way  up  the  embankment  of  the  levee  in 
the  direction  of  her  aunt's  house,  revolving  their 
plans  for  the  future,  Lucia  glanced  over  her 
shoulder,  then  turned  and  with  her  wonted  airy 
grace  she  kissed  her  hand  to  the  dingy  little  cottage, 
so  sombre  and  meagre  beneath  the  gorgeous  sunset 
sky. 

"  Au  revolt,  little  home,"  she  cried,  her  voice 
ringing  out  joyously  in  the  silence.     "  I  shall  set 

449 


The  Windfall 

up  my  staff  here  for  a  time  at  least.     It  is  the 
trysting-place   of   Happiness,  and   all  its   dreams 


come  true." 


For  she  had  romantically  stipulated  that  their 
honeymoon  should  be  passed  here,  where  she  had 
seen  herself  in  visions  so  simply  happy. 

Lloyd  looked  at  her,  his  eyes  shining  with  a  new 
glow.  Then  he,  too,  fervently  kissed  his  hand  to- 
ward the  cottage  and  echoed  her  words. 

" Au  revoir,"  he  said,  "a  low  lintel,  but  that 
door  will  be  the  portal  of  Paradise." 


THE  END 


450 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

loAn  dept. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

18Apr'57Hr§ 

REC'D  LD 

APR  1 5  1951 

Berkeley 

KiL 


M11999 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


